Dear Artie, Count Me In
by choosejoy13
Summary: Melissa Widman is a new student at McKinley High. Having just moved to Lima from California, she's still trying to find her place in the school when she joins the glee club and meets Artie. Soon she finds herself falling for the boy in the wheelchair, but it seems like the other kids in glee might not be as welcoming as she hoped. Season one. ArtiexOC. Reupload from old account.
1. Mash-Up

**Chapter 1: Mash-Up**

"See, Beck? I told you we'd find a use for the RV one day!"

We ran over a pothole in the road as my dad finished speaking. I grabbed onto the table in front of me for support. Once we righted ourselves, I glanced up out the window then back down at my notebook. I had my headphones in, playing my Avril Lavigne playlist as I doodled in my notebook. I had combined Avril's three albums—her debut _Let Go_, her sophomore release _Under My Skin_, and her newest release _The Best Damn Thing_ which had introduced the world to her hit single _Girlfriend_. Mom had gotten me the headphones somewhere in New Mexico, after she got sick of me listening to _Nobody's Home_ on repeat at full volume.

I was trying to be happy about the move, though I'm not entirely sure how anyone could be. I had grown up in California, albeit in a city that, like Bakersfield, had been referred to as the "armpit" of California: Fresno. It wasn't a perfect place by any means, but I had spent my entire life there, so I had been having trouble adjusting to the news that we'd be moving to Lima, Ohio.

Dad had been talking about being transferred for a while, but I never thought it would actually happen, until one day when I came home and there was a giant "for sale" sign in the front yard. I was still adjusting to high school life as a freshman at Harriet Tubman High School, where I was struggling to fit in and find my niche, when Dad dropped the news. I knew deep down that it was a good thing. The transfer meant a raise, and the cost of living in Ohio was considerably less than it was in California, which combined with the increase in money looked like great news for us. But I think you'd be hard pressed to find a single teenager who is okay with moving 2,368 miles away from home—I counted.

"_Melissa!_"

I snatched an earphone out of my ear. How long had my mom been calling me?

"Are you listening to me?" she asked.

"Uh, yeah, totally. I think I saw a rest stop sign a little while ago."

She sighed. "I was saying that we've made it to Ohio."

I looked out the window and saw signs for Dayton. We were getting close. _Finally_, after five days of being cooped up in the RV, we would _finally _be in our new house.

"Cool," I said, starting to reach for my headphones again. Mom continued to speak, so I stopped and listened.

"Well, first day of school on Monday. Are you excited?"

"Yeah, totally," I said, forcing myself to sound much more enthusiastic than I actually was. "I'm totally looking forward to, uh…being lost and having no one to sit with in the cafeteria."

"This might be the time to reinvent yourself," my dad said. "Maybe tone down the goth stuff and start dressing like a normal teenager?"

"_John,_" my mom hissed.

"It's not goth, Dad, it's punk."

"Oh, punk. Even worse. Our daughter's a punk."

"_John!_"

I couldn't say that I didn't see where he was coming from. I didn't just love Avril Lavigne's music, I tried to emulate her style. That day I even had on a pair of black distressed skinny jeans and an All Time Low T-shirt, a band that my dad was not a huge fan of. I even had my nails painted black, which I knew he hated. I also knew my mom was probably going to come after me with acetone once we got settled.

"Look, all I'm trying to say is that we're in Ohio now," Dad continued. "People might have been accepting of you in California but we're a pretty blue state. I just don't want you to get into any trouble at school."

"I'm sure no matter how you dress, people will like you," my mom cut in, giving my dad a glare. I rolled my eyes. Here we go again. "I looked into this school, Missy. William McKinley High? That's where you're going. They have a ton of sports teams and clubs. Their cheerleading team has won national championships the last four years!"

"When have I ever expressed the desire to be a cheerleader?" I asked.

"It would be a nice change of pace from the punk thing," Dad said, clearly thinking I couldn't hear him. Mom hit the back of his arm.

"You don't have to be a cheerleader," Mom said as Dad rubbed his arm. "But I'm just saying, if they have such a great cheerleading program, their other organizations are probably pretty cool. Who knows? They might have something that will interest you."

"Like an Avril Lavigne fan club," Dad said.

Mom ignored him. "By the end of your first week, I want you to find a club and make some friends. Okay?"

"Okay," I said, plastering a smile on my face when she turned around to look at me. As soon as she turned back around, I rolled my eyes again. I put my headphones back in my ears and switched from my Avril playlist to All Time Low.

_I've got your picture, I'm coming with you  
Dear Maria, count me in  
There's a story at the bottom of this bottle  
And I'm the pen…_

* * *

Once the RV pulled to a stop an hour later outside of our new house, I found it was much easier to fake being excited. Our house was beautiful and it was in a nice neighborhood. I could see that our across the street neighbor owned a Cadillac, and all of the houses were picture perfect.

Our own house had two stories, and Mom told me that my bedroom was at the top of the stairs and to the right. I found it right away and went in. It had walls that were a sort of ugly green color, like the color of a honeydew. Luckily, one of the first boxes I had brought in was my box of posters, so I immediately went to work to cover up the ugly walls.

Mom and Dad had gone downstairs to meet one of our new neighbors, so I took out my iPod and started playing my Avril playlist, singing along to it as I hung up posters.

_Let me hear you say yeah, yeah, yeah  
Alright, now let me hear you say hey, hey, ho_

_I hate it when a guy doesn't get the door  
Even though I told him yesterday and the day before  
I hate it when a guy doesn't get the tab  
And I have to pull my money out and that looks bad_

_Where are the hopes? Where are the dreams?  
My Cinderella story scene?  
When do you think they'll finally see?_

_That you're not, not, not gonna get any better  
You won't, won't, won't, you won't get rid of her never  
Like it or not, even though she's a lot like me we're not the same  
And yeah, yeah, yeah, I'm a lot to handle  
You don't know trouble, I'm a hell of a scandal  
Me, I'm a scene, I'm a drama queen  
I'm the best damn thing that your eyes have ever seen_

_I hate it when a guy doesn't understand  
Why a certain time of month I don't wanna hold his hand  
I hate it when they go out and we stay in  
And they come home smelling like their ex-girlfriend_

_I found my hopes, I found my dreams  
My Cinderella story scene  
Now everybody's gonna see…_

I looked up after I had put up several posters on the far wall. There, standing just inside the doorway, was a guy I hadn't noticed before. I immediately screamed.

"What are you doing in here?" I asked, ripping a headphone out of my ear.

"You have quite an exceptional singing voice," he said in a voice that was much higher pitched than I had been expecting. "Though you were a little pitchy at some parts, but I'll forgive that since you seemed a little preoccupied and it's nothing that can't be fixed."

I stared at him, mouth agape and eyes wide, my chest heaving as I breathed hard. My heartbeat was still returning to normal. "You can't just walk into my bedroom like that. What if I had been naked?"

"No offense, but you're not exactly my type."

I had no idea if this was supposed to be an insult, but I couldn't help but feel offended. "I'm sorry, who…"

"How rude of me. Allow me to introduce myself." He extended a hand. "Kurt Hummel. I live in the house across the street. My dad and I came over to introduce ourselves to your folks and they said that they had a daughter about my age. So, here we are."

My thoughts were still kind of in a whirl. "How long have you been standing here?"

"Right before the chorus. I followed the sound of your voice upstairs. Figured it was sort of my breadcrumb trail. Also, I know I'm not really one to give a manners lesson, but I've been waiting for a handshake for a while, so…"

"Oh!" I finally came to my senses and shook his outstretched hand. "Nice to meet you, uh, Kurt?" He nodded. "I'm Melissa."

"And what was that, Paramore?"

"Avril Lavigne, actually. She's kind of my idol."

Kurt's eyes flashed over to the wall behind us, where I had hung up no less than five posters of Avril herself. "No kidding."

"So, uh, you're our neighbors?" I asked, taking the other earphone out of my ear at last and sitting down on the bay window. "You guys own the Cadillac?"

"Yes, it's mine. Well, it was mine before my dad took it away when he found my tiara collection." I took a second to try to process what he just told me, but I didn't have much time to dwell on it, because he asked, "You need a little help with the posters? I've always loved redecorating."

"Uh, yeah, that'd be great."

Over the next twenty minutes, Kurt and I talked and got to know one another. He was a sophomore at the school I was going to, William McKinley High. He knew all about the award winning cheerleading squad, which he said was called the Cheerios, and that I would avoid them if I knew what was good for me.

"No offense, but new students and glee kids are kind of at the bottom of the food chain," he said as he hung up my poster of blink-182.

I froze, stopping dead in my tracks and turning to look at him. "Glee kids?"

"Oh, yeah. We have a glee club. We're pretty new so we only have twelve members. Although Rachel's always sort of leaving and coming back, and there was that whole thing with April…"

I had no idea who Rachel or April were, but I didn't care. I had been a part of the glee club at my old school. I had only auditioned because my friend Gigi wanted to go out for it, but there was something undeniably fun about singing and dancing along to show tunes. I had enjoyed it, right up until _the incident _happened and I found out about Dad's transfer. The glee club could be just the thing I needed to get me through this new change, and besides, Mom had told me that I needed to join a club.

"How do I join?"

"Wait, what?" Kurt asked, who had been mid sentence when I spoke.

"The glee club. I want to try out…if it's not too late."

"Are you sure? Because you were just telling me how you were ostracized at your old school. I don't think glee club is going to change your social standing."

"Maybe you're right," I said, looking down and playing with some loose blonde strands of my ponytail.

"However, sectionals _are _coming up and we could use the members…" Kurt took his phone out and started typing. "You're going to need to talk to Mr. Schuester. He's a Spanish teacher and our director. He'll give you all the information you need. Give me your number, I'm sending you some details."

I took his phone and typed in my number, then handed it back to him. Almost immediately, mine was buzzing as his text came through.

"Well, Melissa, I hope to see you in glee club this week," he said. "And please, call me if you ever need fashion advice. _When_ you need fashion advice," he said as he looked me up and down. "You know where to find me. Hope you have a good first week."

And with that, he walked down the stairs and left me alone in my room. I watched him go out the bay window. He walked into the house across the street, disappearing out of sight. As he went, I turned back to my room. It felt a little bit cozier with my posters for bands like Blondie, Green Day, and Joy Division, and the green was a lot less noticeable with all of the black, purple, and red. Once we got all of the furniture set up, it might look like an actual bedroom.

And I knew I was going to sleep well that night, since it seemed like I had made my first friend.

* * *

As luck would have it, Mr. Schuester was my Spanish teacher third period. I managed to find his classroom on Monday and walked up to him shyly. I was a little surprised at my nervousness, since I wasn't usually the shy type, but then, I had also never been the new kid before.

"Mr. Schuester?" I asked. He looked up at me, the surprise registering on his face when he saw me. "I'm Melissa Widman. I'm a new student."

"Ah, _bienvenida_." He took my schedule and signed it. I was supposed to get signatures from all of the teachers, I suppose as a sort of sign that I had attended all of my classes, then scanned the room for a seat. "Looks like we've only got one empty seat… Do you mind sitting in the front?"

"Not at all," I said, starting to walk away, then turned around to face him. "I'd really appreciate it if you didn't do the whole 'new student introduces herself' thing," I said quietly.

He put a hand on my shoulder and nodded. "Not a problem."

I found my seat and sat down. I had been afraid of people staring at me, but no one seemed to notice my presence. Not once did Mr. Schuester ever even allude to my existence. I wondered if the last minute change of style had helped. Taking some of Dad's advice, I had decided to tone down my usual style and wore a plaid dress to school, which was the most "normal" outfit I could find. Kurt offered to take me to the mall to find more clothes that weekend if I wanted. I told him I'd have to take a raincheck. I still wasn't sure how I felt about reinventing myself.

In fact, most of the week I played it safe. I didn't know anyone other than Kurt, and I didn't want to cause trouble by calling attention to myself through my clothes…not until I was sure I belonged.

After the first few days of school, I finally worked up the nerve to talk to Mr. Schuester about the glee club. I had arrived almost late to class, so I decided to ask him after the bell rang. I had even prepared a song to sing to audition with, and was working up the confidence to be okay if he told me no.

When the bell finally rang, I walked up to his desk timidly, holding my binder against my chest for protection. "Um, Mr. Schuester?" I asked as soon as the last student filed out of the room.

He looked up at me. "Hey, Melissa. How's your first week going?"

"Fine. It's fine."

"Glad to hear it." He folded his hands on the desk, waiting for me to continue.

I took a deep breath. "I heard that you're the teacher for glee club and I was wondering if it was too late to join."

"Oh. Uh, no. We're meeting tomorrow at 3:30 in the choir room. Just make sure you're not late." He got up and started erasing the board as he waited for his next class.

"Wait," I said, and he stopped and looked at me. "That—that's it? You're not even going to ask me to sing or anything?"

"No, because the New Directions welcomes everyone with open arms. Auditions are not mandatory."

"Oh, uh…okay. Well, thanks, Mr. Schuester." I turned to leave.

"Melissa?"

I stopped, turning back to Mr. Schuester. Maybe he was already having second thoughts about me joining the glee club. I tried to ignore the way that my knees were shaking.

"I appreciate the formality, but it's alright. You can call me Mr. Schue."

"Oh, uh, okay, Mr. Schue. I'll see you tomorrow."

"_Hasta mañana_."

"Bye," I said awkwardly.

* * *

My parents could hardly believe it when I told them the news. I first told them that I wouldn't need a ride home from school the next day after all, because I had my first official glee club meeting. Mom immediately leapt out of her seat to hug me. I grimaced when she wasn't looking.

"Missy, that's wonderful!" she said. I tried to ignore the timbre of her voice, the gentle quiver that meant she was about to cry. She pulled away, looking at me with her concerned mom face. "Oh, but are you sure you want to join the glee club after what happened at your last school? I know that was pretty embarrassing for you…"

I cut my mom off before she could continue. Of course she wanted to remind me of my embarrassing past. "I'm sure. Besides, Kurt is a member. I'll at least have him."

In fact, it was Kurt who showed me to the choir room the next day. I was more than a little confused when we arrived as everyone started to watch the clock and the door like hawks. Most people didn't even seem to notice that I was in the room at all, which was starting to become a reoccurring theme for me that week.

"What's going on?" I asked Kurt.

He leaned into me and whispered, "Our football coach scheduled practice for the same time as our glee club meeting, so we're waiting to see if the football players choose the team or the club. Without them, we won't have enough members to compete at sectionals."

I didn't quite understand watching the clock and waiting for people I had never even met, but I found myself watching the minutes tick by as well. At long last, the hands on the clock showed that it was 3:30. I looked around the room, waiting for something to happen.

Mr. Schue sighed. "I guess they're not coming," he said. He looked down at the floor sadly. "I'm really sorry, guys."

"I can't believe this," an African American girl said. "I thought they were our friends. How can they just abandon us?"

But then, we heard footsteps in the hallway. Two boys walked through the door — who I assumed were the football players in glee. Everyone who had been watching the door started smiling, except Mr. Schue, who was looking on in disbelief. Finally, he smiled, and two girls in cheerleading uniforms ran to be the first to hug the guys. One girl, though, kept her eyes on the door as though waiting for someone else. At long last, a third boy walked in and everyone gasped.

I could instantly tell that he was the bad boy type just by his general demeanor. The girl, who had long brown hair and was dressed sort of like my grandmother, walked to the door to greet him. "Are you sure about this, Noah?" she asked. "I mean, choosing us over the team means you might get a Slushie in your face every day."

I turned to Kurt with a furrowed brow. "Wait, what?"

"You get used to it," he whispered.

Horrified, I continued to watch the scene unfolding before me. _A Slushie to the face?_

"Bring it," the boy called Noah said. The room giggled and the two finally embraced.

It was a boy in a wheelchair who spoke up next. "Where's Finn?" he asked.

For a few moments, a heavy silence fell over the room. Then, Mr. Schue walked up to me and said, "I know it's sad that Finn isn't here, but don't worry." The kids in the choir room went to take their seats, though Mr. Schue stopped me before I could get too far. "We still have enough members to compete." He gave me a friendly smile.

"Wow, Quinn, I didn't know you had a twin sister," a blonde girl in a cheerleading uniform said. I gave Mr. Schue a confused look at this, though he ignored the outburst, as did most of the room.

"I'd like to introduce you all to our newest member."

The girl who dressed like my grandmother was on her feet, briskly walking up to the front of the room. "I'm sorry. Mr. Schuester, do you really think that she can be prepared for sectionals in such a short amount of time?"

"Yes, Rachel, I do," he said. _Of course this is Rachel, _I thought as she returned to her seat. "Especially since without her and without Finn, we only have eleven members. We need twelve in order to qualify for sectionals. Now, I'd like to introduce you all to our new student here at McKinley and our newest member."

_Oh, no._ He had promised he wouldn't do this to me.

"This is Melissa Widman," he said.

"Wait," Rachel said again from her chair. "Widman. Are you Jewish?"

I furrowed my brow, confused by the question. "No," I said.

"She's just joined us from…Colorado?" Mr. Schue asked, looking at me.

I smiled politely at him. "California. And, uh, I'm really happy to be here," I said to the rest of the room as I took them all in. There was Kurt, obviously, and Rachel, who I didn't think I liked…then there was the black girl…the three football players…three girls in cheerleading uniforms…an Asian girl who seemed to dress in a similar way as I did…and the kid in the wheelchair, who was the only one other than Kurt who was smiling back at me. I looked back at Mr. Schue for guidance, but Rachel unfortunately spoke up again.

"That's great that you found us someone to replace Finn on such short notice, Mr. Schuester, but can she even sing?"

"Actually, Rachel, Melissa found me," Mr. Schue said. "She came up to me personally and asked me if she could join the glee club."

"And I can sing," I said. "I was in the glee club at my old school. We weren't super good, but I've been told I have a nice voice…for a freshman. I actually had a song prepared," I said, looking back at Mr. Schue again, "if that's alright with you."

"Of course it is," Mr. Schue said, crossing the room to have a seat. Rachel sat as well.

"Please, not another Avril song," Kurt said under his breath.

"Actually, Kurt, this is from Blondie," I said. "I think you all might have heard of it."

I started to sing the song I had originally prepared for my audition with Mr. Schue. I didn't know if I was just imagining it, but the band behind me seemed to know exactly what it was that I was going to sing and started playing along with me.

_The tide is high but I'm holding on  
I'm gonna be your number one  
I'm not the kind of girl who gives up just like that  
Oh, no_

_It's not the things you do that tease me and hurt me bad  
But it's the way you do the things you do to me  
I'm not the kind of girl who gives up just like that  
Oh, no_

_The tide is high but I'm holding on  
I'm gonna be your number one  
The tide is high but I'm holding on  
I'm gonna be your number one  
Number one, number one_

A few of the girls had started singing back up to me, and even the guys were exchanging impressed looks. I thought I could hear the kid in the wheelchair yell, "Ow!" with a large grin on his face, which made me start smiling too. Only Rachel was not responding in a positive way as she sat in the back of the room with her arms crossed over her chest.

_Every girl wants you to be her man  
But I'll wait right here till it's my turn  
I'm not the kind of girl who gives up just like that  
Oh, no_

_Every time that I get the feeling  
You give me something to believe in  
Every time that I got you near me  
I know the way that I want it to be  
But you know that I'm gonna take my chance now  
I'm gonna make it happen somehow  
And you know I can take the pressure  
A moment's pain for a lifetime pleasure_

_The tide is high but I'm holding on  
I'm gonna be your number one  
The tide is high but I'm holding on  
I'm gonna be your number one_

As I sang the last verse, the rest of the glee club (minus Rachel and Mr. Schue) joined in to finish the song with me. I figured I was right with the assumption that they had heard the song before and was able to get into the song even more as we finished it off.

_Every time that I get the feeling  
You give me something to believe in  
Every time that I got you near me  
I know the way that I want it to be  
But you know that I'm gonna take my chance now  
I'm gonna make it happen somehow  
And you know I can take the pressure  
A moment's pain for a lifetime pleasure_

As I finished singing, the glee club started applauding me. Mr. Schue himself stood up and clapped as he walked up to me, then put his arm around me. "How about a round of applause for Melissa Widman!" The applause got louder, then Mr. Schue looked down at me with a look full of pride. "Looks like we've got ourselves a new member!" he said, and I smiled at him. A single thought ran through my head.

_I think I'm gonna like it here._

* * *

**AN: Hi guys! I published but never finished this story on my old account, Hatter of Madness, which I think I am slowly going to be moving away from. I plan on finishing up my Fearless stories on that account but am now going to be migrating to this one. I have outlined this story very far in advance and have made a lot of changes to the plot from the last time, so I hope you all enjoy it! Also, if you head over to my profile, I have a link to a YouTube playlist with all of the songs that will be in this story in it. I wanted this to be like the TV show so I have decided to include a lot more music in this story, and have decided that each chapter is going to be based off of an episode of the show. I hope you all like it!**


	2. Wheels

**Chapter 2: Wheels**

So here's what you missed on _Glee._

Melissa Widman is a brand new freshman at McKinley High School after her dad's office transferred him to Lima, which she really isn't super happy about but she pretends that she is so her parents don't worry about her, which is something she kind of has a habit of doing with mixed results.

Their new neighbors are the Hummels who don't really have any concept of personal space which Melissa figured out once she found Kurt standing in her bedroom while she was singing—_what if I had been naked? No offense, but you're not exactly my type._

But anyway it turns out she can sing, and she can sing really good, so Kurt recruited her for the New Directions and Rachel isn't very happy because she doesn't think that she'll be ready for Sectionals in such a short amount of time even though they really need more members since the boys on the football team had to make a decision over which team they're going to pick, and it looks like Finn chose the football team.

And what's what you missed on _Glee_!

* * *

A few weeks had passed since we had moved to Lima. I was running out of clothes that didn't make me a walking target for bullying. My dad had liked the change, though, and referred to my new wardrobe as "punk lite". Kurt had offered again to take me to the mall, but I wasn't so sure that he was the person I wanted to get fashion advice from. His wardrobe was much different than what most guys wore, and it looked like it was also about three times more expensive.

I had officially made two friends—while I was still getting to know the kids in glee, knowing less than half of their names, Kurt had introduced me to Mercedes, the black girl who I had met at the first glee club rehearsal. They both were nice and I didn't want to sit alone at lunch, so I did my best to get to know them. I finally understood why new kids seemed so scared on their first days of school. High school was hard enough when you weren't completely alone.

One day I was crouched over in the hallway putting some stuff in my locker before glee club. I had been given a bottom locker, one of the only ones that the school had left. At first I hadn't minded. It wasn't a big deal to me to have to crouch down a couple times a day. But that day, as I was putting away my science textbook, someone walked by and kicked my stuff across the floor. They paused for a moment, laughed, and walked away.

I got down on my hands and knees to get my stuff back. I looked up when I heard something that sounded like tires on the floor. It was the guy in the wheelchair from glee club.

"Hey," he said, smiling at me.

I tried to smile back. "Hi."

"I take it you're not a huge fan of having a lower locker."

I sighed, trying my best not to let my smile waver. "It wasn't so bad, at first. But, uh, people keep tripping over me. I'm Melissa, by the way."

"I know. We have Spanish class together."

I looked up at him. "We do?"

"Yeah, we kind of sit next to each other."

I could feel my cheeks getting hot and red almost immediately. "I am so sorry."

"It's alright. You've kind of seemed a little…checked out lately."

"I just moved here from California. Still adjusting, I guess." I put my stuff back in my locker, closing it gently as I spoke to him. "You didn't happen to see that guy tripping over me just now, did you?" I asked.

"That, I did," he said, a sorry look on his face. "You really took it in stride, though."

"It kind of happens a lot. I don't think people really notice me."

"Is that a bad thing?" I looked up to meet his eyes, a funny feeling washing over me. He held his hand out to me and smiled. "I'm Artie, by the way."

"Melissa," I said, shaking his hand. "Wait, I already said that."

He chuckled. "Well, Melissa, wanna head to glee club together?"

I stood up off the floor and smiled down at him. "Sure."

We went down the hallways. I didn't tell him that I was grateful that he was there. It had been weeks, and I somehow still managed to get lost on my way to class. I had no idea where Kurt or Mercedes were, though I knew I couldn't rely on them for everything.

"So, you're from California," he said as we made our way down the hall. "Must be a bit of a culture shock to move out here."

"Yeah, for sure. But, uh, my dad got transferred so it's not like I had much of a choice in the matter."

"You know, change can be a good thing sometimes. But something tells me that moving is not the only change you've made recently."

I looked at him. "What do you mean?"

"You just look really uncomfortable all the time. You keep tugging at your clothes and you've been repeating outfits a lot."

"Uh, it's just…" Only Kurt knew the truth about my change in wardrobe, but I figured it couldn't hurt to open up to someone else. "My dad was just a little worried about the way that I usually dress, and thought that I might get bullied about it, so I've sort of been playing it safe with my clothes. It's not really just a coincidence that I sang a Blondie song at my first glee club meeting. I'm actually really into that stuff."

"Kurt did say something about Avril Lavigne."

"Yeah, she's kind of my idol."

"Well, if you ask me, I would think that Avril wouldn't try to change who she is out of fear of what someone else thought of her. We're still going to like you here no matter how you dress."

We had arrived at the choir room. I paused just outside the doorway and he went in. I was thinking about what he said. For some reason, it sounded so kind and thoughtful. I tried to push this from my mind and followed him inside.

As we came into the room, the Asian girl stammered out, "H-h-hey, Artie."

"Hi, Tina," he said back.

I had been trying to figure out ways to remember who was who in the glee club and made a mental note. _Tina stutters._ I sat down in the empty chair next to Artie and glanced over at him. One of his shoelaces had come undone. He didn't seem to notice—maybe he couldn't feel how loose it was.

"Hey, Artie?" I said, and he looked over at me in surprise. "Uh, your shoe's untied."

He looked down and said, "Oh, thanks," then bent over. I watched as he attempted to tie his shoelaces. I didn't know whether or not I should offer to help. I didn't want to make him feel like he was incapable of taking care of himself—I just wanted to offer a hand. Admittedly, I knew very few people with such an obvious disability like his.

Mr. Schue came in and started handing out sheet music as the chatter in the room died down. "Alright, guys," he announced. "We're doing a new number for sectionals. I know that pop songs have sort of been our signature pieces, but I did a little research on past winners, and it turns out that the judges like songs that are more accessible. Stuff they know. Uh, standards. Broadway."

I looked down at the sheet music in my hands. It was _Defying Gravity_. Now where had I heard that title before?

"_Defying Gravity_?" Kurt asked, doing little to hide the excitement in his voice. "I have an iPod shuffle dedicated exclusively to selections from _Wicked_. This is amazing."

_Wicked_. That's where it was from. We would be doing showtunes again.

Mr. Schue smiled, then turned his attention elsewhere. "Think you can handle it, Rachel?"

"It's my go-to shower song," she said. "It's also my ringtone."

I had been starting to notice a theme in the short time that I had been in glee club: Rachel was a bit of a diva. She got most of the solos and would often throw a fit if she didn't. She had made it very clear to me after my first meeting in glee club that I could sing back up to her at performances. Based on what little I knew about her from Kurt, it seemed like she did this not just to me, but to everyone.

"Why do we have to go all vanilla on this song?" Mercedes asked. "See, what we need is my chocolate thunder."

"Okay, we don't have time to rearrange a song for you, Mercedes. Rachel is singing it. Don't worry. We'll find something for you to dip in chocolate."

The room laughed, though I stayed quiet. That was another thing I was starting to notice: Mr. Schue was nice and a great teacher, but he often gave in to Rachel's demands. I wondered whether the other twelve of us would ever get our chance to prove ourselves.

Finn had returned to glee club not long after I had, and seemed confused by my presence but never asked who I was. It turned out that he was a football player and was dating one of the girls on the cheerleading squad, Quinn. Well, Quinn _had_ been on the cheerleading squad. I had been in glee club only a short time but was already catching up on all of the gossip. It turned out that Quinn was pregnant, and the cheerleading coach had kicked her off the squad. But with Finn's return and my new membership, we were at thirteen people. Rachel was quick to point out that thirteen was an unlucky number, and every time she opened her mouth I prayed to God that she would just stop talking.

"Onto item two," Mr. Schue said, looking like he absolutely did not want to deliver his next piece of news. "The school won't pay for the special bus we need to take Artie and his wheelchair with us to sectionals."

My mouth immediately flew open. I could feel Artie shrink in his wheelchair next to me.

"W-w-what?" Tina asked.

"That's completely unfair," Rachel said, and for once, I found myself agreeing with her. In fact, I wasn't so sure it was just unfair. It seemed like discrimination. I looked at Artie, who pointedly avoided eye contact with me.

"So, we're going to have to raise money for it ourselves," Mr. Schue continued. "See, when I was in glee club and we needed new silk cumberbunds for regionals, we held a bake sale."

There was a pause, then scattered laughter echoed throughout the room. I glanced around, not sure what was so funny. Artie shrank next to me yet again.

"Wait, you're joking, right?" a girl in a cheerleading uniform asked. "I mean, bake sales are kind of bougie." I was struggling to remember her name, but in that moment I didn't care much. I could not believe how blasé she was about this issue.

"So hip people stopped eating delicious sugary treats?"

"It's not that," another girl in a cheerleading uniform said, the one who had thought I was Quinn's twin sister at my first meeting. "It's most of us don't know how to bake. I find recipes confusing."

"My family is fully committed to takeout," Rachel said.

I glanced to my right. Next to me, Artie kept his eyes locked on the sheet music.

"Yeah, Mr. Schue, kids are busier than when you went here," Finn said. "We've got homework and football and teen pregnancy…lunch."

"Can't Artie's dad just take him?" Mercedes asked.

"I can't believe how insensitive you're all being," Mr. Schue said, and I had to agree with him. "Are you a team?"

"Of course," Quinn said. "But Artie understands." He finally looked up at her. I kept my eyes on the floor, not daring to look at him. "Don't you, Artie?"

"Oh…of course," he said. "I-it's cool. Anything that takes away our time from rehearsing doesn't serve the team."

There was silence. I thought I might cry. There was something in the hesitant way that he spoke that told me quite plainly that this wasn't cool.

The bell rang. Everyone got up to leave, but I hesitated, watching Artie. He placed his sheet music in his lap and kept his eyes on the floor. Kurt and Mercedes paused just by the doorway. "Melissa? Are you coming?" Kurt asked.

I finally looked up, back at Artie for one moment, and stood. "Yeah," I said weakly, followed by a more powerful, "Yeah." I stood, gave Artie one last glance (he was trying to tie his shoelaces again), then followed Kurt and Mercedes out the door. I had my black backpack slung over one shoulder, still clutching my sheet music in my fist. I couldn't help but feel betrayed. I had thought Mercedes was cool, but apparently, she was more cool with letting Artie be a second thought.

"Has Mr. Schue thought that maybe someone else would like to sing a song from _Wicked_ besides Rachel?" Kurt asked. "I could kill that number in my _sleep._"

"It's a girl's song, Kurt," Mercedes said.

"I'm not asking to play Elphaba on Broadway. I just want to perform the number at sectionals. I think I'm entitled to that desire."

"Everyone knows that Rachel is Mr. Schue's favorite. He probably picked that song out just for her. And frankly, if we're picking out songs just for specific people, I'd like to sing at sectionals, too. Is Whitney Houston not 'accessible' enough for those judges?"

"Remember, Mercedes, we're just the background characters in the life of Rachel Berry."

Mercedes chuckled. I kept my eyes locked on the floor. Kurt and Mercedes stopped talking as I followed behind them. They shared a glance, then looked back at me.

"Are you okay, Melissa?" Mercedes asked.

I glanced up at them and forced a smile. "Yeah. Just tired."

"Isn't it obvious, Mercedes?" Kurt asked, walking alongside me. "It's clear to me that Melissa would like to have a solo—that is, if we weren't living in Rachel-ville."

How he could be missing the point so much, I had no idea.

"We could talk to Mr. Schue about maybe getting you an Avril song that you could kill," she said. "Maybe Green Day? It wouldn't be for sectionals, but maybe if we have another invitational or something. It's too bad you weren't here when we did _Keep Holding On_, because you would have crushed it."

"And who got the solo on that one?" Kurt asked, though he seemed to know the answer.

They started to bicker amongst themselves, but I tuned them out since I heard the all too familiar sound of someone coming down the hallway. Artie kept his eyes on the floor as he moved past us, not even offering an 'excuse me' as he dodged us.

"Artie…" I called after him, but he didn't turn around and disappeared around a corner. I watched him go sadly. I took a deep breath as he left. Mercedes and Kurt fell into silence behind me, staring at me as they waited for my next move. I finally spoke. "Do you think it's okay that we're not going to have a bus for Artie for sectionals?"

"His parents have a handicapped van," Mercedes said. "It's not like he can't get there."

"But he's going alone. That…doesn't sound like something a good team would let happen."

"We're not exactly swimming in money here, Melissa," Kurt said. "We can't even afford to have matching costumes. We're just given a general idea of what we should be wearing for any given performance and we have to do the hard work ourselves. And I'm not sure if you're aware of this, but a bus is a lot more expensive than thirteen matching outfits. You can get cheap matching clothes at Wal-Mart, but you're not just going to find a handicapped bus lying around."

"What about the Cheerios?" I asked. "This would be a nonissue if we were cheerleaders."

"They've also won national championships," Mercedes said. "_Several_ national championships. And frankly, I don't think you're ever going to see a girl in a wheelchair on the cheerleading squad—and definitely not a guy."

"Melissa, we are at the bottom of the high school food chain," Kurt said. "We barely have the minimum amount of members we need to even _go _to sectionals. If Finn hadn't come back and you hadn't joined, this would not even be something we're going to. Did you know that we don't even regularly have school plays? There's just not enough money for it. So unless all of us suddenly became handicapped, that bus is not going to be paid for by the school."

I sighed. "Okay," I said. "It just doesn't seem fair…"

"Of course it's not fair, but if you want fair, then you're probably going to need to look somewhere outside of small town Ohio."

"And it's also not fair that Rachel and Finn get every solo just _handed_ to them," Mercedes said to Kurt. "Would it be so hard for Mr. Schue to have auditions?"

Kurt's face lit up as though he had an idea. This was about where I started to tune out of the conversation. Clearly, to pretty much everyone in glee club, this was a nonissue. To me, it completely broke my heart. What other hurdles did Artie face every single day? What else did he have to deal with that the other kids didn't know about?

* * *

The next day I walked into Spanish class early. Mr. Schue was busy writing something at the board, and most people were busy talking to themselves. I was antsy; I paced by my desk, watching the door. Finally, _he_ showed up.

"Artie," I said as he came in the room. He looked up at me in surprise, pausing on his way to his seat, but continued on.

"Hi," he said, confused. "Is there something you wanted to talk to me about?"

I took a deep breath and just dove into it, sitting down on the edge of our desk. "Look, I know it's probably not my place, but it really bothered me yesterday in glee club when everyone was so dismissive about getting you a bus to sectionals."

His face fell slightly. "Oh. I-it's nothing. They just don't get it."

"It's not 'nothing', Artie, it's discrimination." He looked down at the desk, avoiding eye contact with me. "I read up on this stuff last night. You know if you got a lawyer, you probably wouldn't even need to take this to court to get that bus? Just the threat of the ADA would get the principal to change his mind."

"Look, I know you're from California where everyone has an attorney, but this is Ohio," he said as he finally looked up at me. There was such an obvious disconnect from what he was saying to me versus the expression on his face, which just said _pain_. "It-it's fine, really. Most people just don't know what it's like to be on the outside looking in. I'll figure something out."

"But…"

The bell rang. Almost immediately, Mr. Schue said, "Melissa, have a seat—in your chair, please."

I got off the desk and sat down in my chair, trying to focus on the lesson instead of the person sitting next to me—easier said than done. Pretty soon, my mind started to wander. I couldn't stop thinking about what Artie had said: _most people just don't know what it's like to be on the outside looking in. _Soon enough, a song started playing in my head.

_You don't know my name  
You don't know anything about me  
I try to play nice, I wanna be in your game  
The things that you say  
You might think I never hear about them  
But word travels fast  
I'm telling you to your face  
I'm standing here behind your back_

_You don't know how it feels to be outside the crowd  
You don't know what it's like to feel left out  
And you don't know how it feels to be your own best friend  
On the outside looking in_

In my thoughts, I turned and watched Artie do his work, who I had just noticed wore gloves on his hands, probably to protect him from the wheels of his chair.

_If you could read my mind  
You might see more of me than meets the eye_

And then, my eyes traveled down further—to the chair itself.

_And you've been all wrong  
Not who you think I am  
You've never given me a chance_

_Well you don't know how it feels to be outside the crowd  
You don't know what it's like to feel left out  
And you don't know how it feels to be your own best friend  
On the outside looking in_

Artie reached behind him to get something out of his backpack. Instinctively, I reached too, but dropped my hand, not wanting to overstep my boundaries.

_Well I'm tired of staying at home  
I'm bored and all alone  
I'm sick of wasting all my time_

_You don't know how it feels to be outside the crowd  
You don't know what it's like to feel left out  
And you don't know how it feels to be your own best friend  
On the outside looking in…_

I wasn't pulled back out of my thoughts until the bell rang. I looked around in surprise. People were packing up and leaving class. Artie closed his notebook, where he had been scribbling notes. I looked at the paper in front of me — blank. Had I been daydreaming the entire class?

"Remember, guys," Mr. Schue called over the noise. "Your papers on _yo y mi identidad_ are due on Friday by the first bell. Everything needs to be written _en español_."

I shoved everything in my backpack and stood to leave. I hadn't even started the paper yet. I had planned on doing it the night before, but admittedly, I was a little preoccupied.

Mr. Schue's voice stopped me dead in my tracks. "Melissa, can I have a word with you?"

I stopped on my way out of the classroom, watching as everyone left. Artie hesitated, giving us a look over his shoulder before he left. As soon as the room was clear, Mr. Schue started talking, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back against his desk. "I couldn't help but overhear the conversation that you and Artie had before class today."

"I'm sorry," I said immediately. "I know I was sort of overstepping boundaries with that."

"No, actually, I agree with what you said. It isn't right that this is happening, and I said so much to Principal Figgins. But Artie's right. We're going to figure something out. This isn't the end of this issue. I've got a plan."

I gave a half-hearted smile. "I'm glad to hear it."

"And I'm sure Artie will be, too. Now chin up. After we win sectionals, we'll find you another Blondie song that you can do."

I finally smiled a real smile, trying my best not to laugh. "Thanks, Mr. Schue."

"You get going now, and remember, _tu ensayo, yo y mi identidad_, on my desk _el viernes._"

I pretended I knew what any of this meant, nodding as I said, "Right. Bye."

* * *

The next time that glee club met, Kurt wasted no time in announcing, "I have something to say. I want to audition for the _Wicked_ solo." Several students started murmuring in excitement.

"Kurt, there's a high F in it," Mr. Schue said.

"That's well within my range."

As the glee club oohed, Rachel looked furious. Mr. Schue sided with her as he announced, "Well, I think Rachel's going to be fine for the female lead, but I'm happy to have you try out something else, Kurt. And we'll make sure it's got a killer high note."

My conversation the previous day with Mercedes and Kurt flashed through my mind again. Maybe there was a grain of truth to the fact that Mr. Schue played favorites. Kurt had only asked to _audition_ for the song, not have it taken from Rachel.

The room started chattering. Next to me, Artie turned to Kurt and said, "You tried."

"Anyway," Mr. Schue said as Kurt took his seat, "I wanted to say something to you guys. I was a little disappointed at how you were all so willing to take the bus to get to sectionals and make Artie drive by himself with his dad. We're a team, guys. We're in this glee club together."

To my absolute shock and horror, Mercedes said, "Artie doesn't care. His dad drives him everywhere."

But then, also to my surprise, Artie told her, "I do care. It kind of hurt my feelings."

"We didn't think you would take it personally," Rachel said.

"Well, you're irritating most of the time, but don't take that personally," Artie said. I nearly had to shove my fist in my mouth to keep from laughing.

"I don't know if you guys really understand how much harder Artie has to work just to keep up," Mr. Schue said.

Artie threw up a hand and said, "Preach."

"We're riding to sectionals _together_," Mr. Schue continued, "or we're not going at all. And to pay for the bus, we're having a bake sale."

Some people started to groan in protest, but I tried to ignore them. Were there more glamorous ways to pay for the bus? Absolutely. But then, Artie was our friend. Did it really matter that we were having a bake sale if it was for his benefit?

I looked up in surprise as people started coming into the classroom pushing wheelchairs. Mr. Schue kept talking. "St. Ignatius Nursing Home was having a tag sale, and my AV club friends here agreed to help out. For the next week, each of you is going to spend three hours a day in a wheelchair."

That was a development I hadn't been expecting.

"Oh, oh, oh," he continued, ignoring all of our stunned faces, "and we're doing a wheelchair _number._"

* * *

I quickly found out that being in a wheelchair was much more difficult than I could have imagined. My arms were constantly on fire, I had to give myself extra time to get to class (not to mention had to take the elevator as opposed to the stairs), and, keeping in the spirit of the assignment from Mr. Schue, I stayed in my wheelchair at all times. No standing whatsoever. I found myself wondering how Artie could spend his life in a wheelchair, though I figured he probably didn't have a choice. I knew that not all wheelchair users were incapable of walking or standing, so I really wondered what actually happened to put him in the chair.

After school one day, as I crouched down in my wheelchair in front of my locker, I saw Artie coming down the hallway, presumably on his way to glee club. I closed my locker and called out, "Hey, Artie?"

He stopped, turning to look at me. "Hey," he said. "You feeling better about having a lower locker this week?"

I laughed. "Yeah, I definitely would not have enjoyed a higher one when I'm only three feet tall." He laughed, too. There was a silence. "Listen, I had no idea how hard this was for you. I think I might have biceps now."

"Well, when you're literally pushing yourself around, you need to have some upper body strength."

"Yeah. I was just wondering, if you're comfortable with sharing…"

"You want to know what happened to me." I looked down at my lap, then nodded before looking him in the eye again. He jerked his head down the hallway so that I would follow him. The two of us started pushing our wheelchairs towards the choir room as he explained. "When I was eight, I got in a car accident with my mom. She was okay, nothing happened to her other than some whiplash and bruises, but I was paralyzed. I can't feel anything from my waist down."

"I'm so sorry," I said.

"I mean, there are worse things that could have happened. I could have become quadriplegic, or died in that accident, or lost my mom."

"I guess that's true. And listen. I sort of had a talk with Mr. Schue about this. I told him that it wasn't right that the glee club was so negative about this whole thing, and that's why the bake sale is back on. But I was thinking, if for whatever reason we can't get the money for the bus and your dad does end up taking you, I would really like to go with you guys—if that's okay with you."

Artie smiled at me. "I would love that."

I smiled back at him. "And, um, this is completely random, but I've kind of started to feel more like myself. I've been dressing more like myself and all. I think people might be starting to notice me."

I suddenly was jerked back to reality as something freezing cold slapped me in the face. I stopped dead in my tracks, sputtering in surprise as slushie dripped down my face. I couldn't see anything out of my glasses other than red food dye. Artie gasped. I could feel him stopping to look at what had happened.

"Welcome to the glee club, off brand Avril!" a jock said as he passed us. Another jock laughed and slapped him on the back as they walked away.

Horrified, Artie started wheeling away, saying, "Come on, follow me."

We headed into an empty classroom as I started wiping furiously at my face. It was freezing cold, dripping down my face and shirt. I thought back to what Kurt had said when I first joined the glee club and wondered how _anyone_ could get used to this. Artie reached behind him into his backpack and handed me a hand towel. "Here. Wipe your face with this."

I took my glasses off and started getting the slushie off my face. It was so sticky, and I desperately felt like I needed to wash my face.

"I should have seen Karofsky coming," he said. "He loves to pelt us with these."

"You've had a slushie thrown in your face before?" I asked, horrified.

"I think everyone in glee club has at this point. Except maybe Santana and Brittany."

I was so bad with names that I still wasn't certain that I knew who they were, but I figured they were probably the two cheerleaders who had been against Mr. Schue's bake sale idea. I really couldn't imagine them being the victims of a slushie—the perpetrators, however, was a different story.

"I mean, why else would I carry a towel around with me?" he asked. "Some of us even keep rain gear in our lockers just to be safe."

I had never felt so humiliated in my life, even though I knew no one had seen what had happened other than Artie and the jocks. Just the fact that there was currently a frozen dessert dripping down my face was enough to make me absolutely mortified.

My glasses were still soaked with red dye, so I reached out for them. Artie reached too, and he grabbed them before I could. We brushed fingers. I hesitated for a moment, then jerked my hand back. My stomach gave a strange lurch as I did.

"Here," he said, "let me take care of that. You don't want the red dye seeping into any cracks."

I watched as he diligently cleaned my glasses (it suddenly became clear to me that he had done this before), trying to understand the strange feeling I had. He handed my glasses back to me, then said, "I take it this kind of thing never happened to you in California." He must have been misreading my expression.

I shook my head. "Not really."

"Well, at least you had a friend looking out for you the first time it happened."

I looked up at him with my head cocked slightly. "You think we're friends?"

"I'd say that only a really good friend would have been willing to talk to Mr. Schue about getting me that bus for sectionals, or would have been willing to go with me and my dad."

He smiled at me, and I tried to smile back, but something in my gut told me that I was certain he was more than just a friend.

* * *

**AN: Hi guys. I know this chapter is slightly longer than the first one, but like I said, I'm trying to cover one episode per chapter, which means that they're probably going to be on the long side. Again, I've added the music from this chapter to the playlist on my profile.**


	3. Ballad

**Chapter 3: Ballad**

So here's what you missed on _Glee._

Principal Figgins told Mr. Schue that he wouldn't be providing a special bus for Artie to get to Sectionals, which kind of is a huge violation of the ADA, and no one really seemed to realize that except for Melissa: _You know if you got a lawyer, you probably wouldn't even need to take this to court to get that bus? _It almost made her wonder if the ADA even existed in Ohio.

But then Mr. Schue made the glee club use wheelchairs for a week and Melissa realized that being in a wheelchair kind of sucks. Like, a lot. She couldn't even stand up or go up the stairs. At least it gave her a killer arm workout. _I think I might have biceps now._

So with her newfound respect for the disabled, she started realizing Artie was like super talented, and pretty cute for being a nerd and in a wheelchair, but it seems like he just thinks of her as a really good friend, which means that Melissa has got no chance with him. It's hard enough being the new kid and in the glee club, and she really just can't catch a break. _Welcome to the glee club, off brand Avril!_

And that's what you missed on _Glee_!

* * *

I had to be honest with myself: I was falling in love with Artie.

It became clear to me after my first ever slushie to the face, which he had informed me was called a slushie facial, and that it had been given to me by none other than the notorious McKinley High bully, Dave Karofsky. There was something so sweet about the way that Artie had helped me clean myself up afterwards, and the way that he stuck by my side during glee club. He had worked with me one on one to get my wheelchair dancing on par for _Proud Mary_, and during that number I realized what a phenomenal voice he had.

It was plain to me that I was falling for him, and falling fast.

It was during glee club the next week that things really started getting serious. I was seated in between Kurt and Mercedes, but I could barely keep my eyes to myself. I found myself completely fascinated with the boy in the wheelchair and if my two newfound friends would just pay attention, they would probably realize that. Perhaps luck would have it that they weren't.

Mr. Schue came into the choir room and wrote on the board, then turned to face us. I forced myself to pay attention to him instead of where my thoughts had gone. "Ballad," he said. "From middle English _balade_. Who knows what this word means?"

The blonde cheerleader who I had come to know as Brittany shouted out matter-of-factly, "It's a male duck."

I turned to look at her with a confused expression as Kurt raised his hand. Mr. Schue called on him then, and he said, "A ballad is a love song."

"Sometimes, but they don't always express love," Mr. Schue continued. "Ballads are stories set to music, which is why they're the perfect storm of self-expression. Stories and music are the way we express feelings that we can't get out any other way. Okay, now, sectionals are in a few weeks and there's a new rule this year: we have to perform a ballad."

Rachel muttered something to herself about writing weekly letters to the Ohio show choir committee, which I had no idea was an actual thing. Kurt seemed tense in his seat. He seemed to be taking his loss of the _Wicked_ solo in stride (and I felt horrible about casting my vote against him at their sing off), but he also didn't seem to tolerate Rachel any more than usual.

Mr. Schue ignored her comment and continued, "Okay. So here's our assignment for the week. I'm going to pair you off, and I want you to pick a ballad to sing to your partner." He walked up to Artie then, and my stomach gave a familiar flutter. He got down on Artie's level as he said, "Look them right in the eye, find the emotion you want to express, and make them feel it."

Oh, how I desperately wanted to do that.

"I pick Quinn," Finn announced.

"No, no, no, too easy," Mr. Schue said. "Your partners will be chosen by fate." He crossed back to the piano, and the room started to _ooh _in response. "_Ooh_, yeah. I put all of your names into this hat." He held up a black hat that he had set on the piano. "Whoever you choose is your partner."

I could hear Brittany whisper, "I bet the duck's in the hat."

Santana spoke up next. "But we have an uneven number of members now ever since California joined." I turned to look at her, assuming she was referring to me. "Someone's gonna be without a partner."

"Um…" Mr. Schue said, clearly thinking on his feet. I suppose that was the reason why he taught Spanish and not math. "I guess I'll just have to put my name in the hat for now. Who's up first?"

Puck, the guy with the mohawk who I figured was the bad boy type, was the first to get up. He walked up to the hat, stuck his hand in, and pulled out a piece of paper. "Mercedes," he announced.

I could tell without looking at her how displeased Mercedes was.

One of the football players (I believe his name was Matt) got up next. He announced his partner to the club: "Quinn."

Finn went next. He reached in and got a slip of paper, looking a bit shell shocked as he read the name on it: "Kurt." Next to me, Kurt sat up straighter as other kids in the room started to laugh. "Mr. Schue, I don't know if I can do this with another guy."

"The fates have spoken, Finn," Mr. Schue said with a smirk on his face.

Finn took his seat, fuming slightly to himself. Tina went next and announced her partner, doing just as little to hide her disdain as Finn had: "Other Asian."

Santana was next. "Brittany," she announced giddily, obviously not having the hang up that Finn had about doing this assignment of someone of the same gender. Brittany even stood up and clapped.

Just as I was debating getting up, Artie went to the front of the room. I kept my eyes locked on him, feeling weak in the knees—there was no way that I was going to be able to get up then.

My heart nearly stopped when he read the name on his paper: "Melissa."

A strange shiver went up my spine. I suddenly felt short of breath, though I hoped that no one noticed. Artie took his spot at the front of the room again, though my eyes remained on the hat still resting on top of the piano.

"Want to trade partners?" Mercedes asked in a whisper.

"Uh, uh, uh. The fates have spoken, Mercedes," Kurt said back with a grin on his face.

"Yeah," I said back quietly, still feeling the strange feeling that I suddenly had in my stomach every time Artie was around. "The fates or…whatever."

That only left Rachel, who ended up partnered with Mr. Schue. I couldn't care less in that moment; all I could think about was the fact that Artie and I were partnered up with one another. Was it normal to be this jittery about a duet?

It was Artie who ended up speaking up almost immediately after: "Would you mind clarifying what types of songs you want us to sing?"

"Why don't you let Mr. Schuester and I demonstrate," Rachel said, then turned to the piano player. "Brad, _Endless Love _in B flat."

Of course that was the type of song that they wanted. A love song. Another strange flutter went through my gut, though I couldn't quite tell if it was my feelings for Artie that caused it, or if it was the feeling of nervousness. But what was I nervous about?

I tensed listening to Mr. Schue and Rachel sing, because I couldn't tell if Rachel was just really into the song, or if she was really into Mr. Schue. Still, a million thoughts about my own predicament were racing through my mind—perhaps racing through in wheelchairs. I suddenly regretted eating in the cafeteria for lunch that day.

We were soon dismissed from glee club, presumably to work on our ballads with our partners, though admittedly most people left. I was on my way out with Kurt and Mercedes when a voice stopped me: "Hey, Melissa, wait up."

I turned around, my stomach lurching yet again as I saw it was Artie. I tried to smile at him, but I was worried that I looked more like a serial killer than a duet partner. "H-hey, Artie," I said.

"So when do you want to meet up to talk about our ballads? I have a couple of song ideas that I wanted to run by you that I thought would complement our different voices."

"I'm free tomorrow during lunch?"

"The choir room okay?"

"Perfect."

"Then it's a date," he said, smiling at me, before he left the room and went down the hall. I clutched my binder to my chest and dashed out the door to find Kurt and Mercedes, who were waiting for me not too far from the choir room.

"Puck's got a good voice but all I'm saying is that I need to work with someone who doesn't make me want to rip my hair extensions out every time we're in the same room together," Mercedes was saying as I walked up.

"For the last time, Mercedes, no, I will not switch partners with you," Kurt said back. "Besides, I doubt Mr. Schue's going to let us. You heard the man. _The fates have spoken._"

The two continued to talk to themselves, but I had my eyes elsewhere. Down the hall, I could see Artie getting his books out of his locker. I bit my lip, trying to figure out what exactly it was that I was feeling. I had never felt like this before, and didn't know if I was truly feeling something for him, or if it was the tacos that the school had served for lunch that day that was causing my upset stomach.

"Melissa, are you listening to us?" Mercedes asked, whipping me out of my thoughts.

"Yeah, the glee assignment. Totally."

"We actually were talking about babygate now," Kurt said.

"What's gotten into you?" Mercedes asked.

I looked both ways down the hallway and asked them in a quiet voice, "I'm just a little worried about Artie." I was lying through my teeth, though neither of them seemed to catch on.

"Artie?" Mercedes asked, speaking a little too loudly.

"Ssh! Don't say it so loud," I hissed. I glanced up, but no one seemed to be listening to us. "We just had a little talk in the choir room and he seemed a little out of it. That's all."

"And you're worried because…?" Kurt asked.

"Look. You guys weren't exactly super nice to him about the bus thing. No one really was. I'm just...worried that he's, like, lonely or something."

"Wait, isn't he dating Tina?" Mercedes asked.

"Tina?" I said in a weak voice. I looked back down the hall and saw Tina herself talking to Artie at his locker. Neither was smiling, but they seemed totally comfortable being around one another.

Before I knew it, something strange came over me. I walked up and slammed a locker door shut next to them. They both turned to me as I broke out in song.

_Hey! Hey! You! You!  
I don't like your girlfriend  
No way! No way!  
I think you need a new one  
Hey! Hey! You! You!  
I could be your girlfriend_

_Hey! Hey! You! You!  
I know that you like me  
No way! No way!  
You know it's not a secret  
Hey! Hey! You! You!  
I want to be your girlfriend_

I leaned down close to Artie and ran a hand down his cheek.

_You're so fine, I want you mine  
You're so delicious  
I think about you all the time  
You're so addictive  
Don't you know what I can do  
To make you feel alright?_

I started walking away then, slightly bent over and motioning with a finger for him to follow me.

_So come over here  
Tell me what I wanna hear_

At that, Tina started walking up to us, but I flicked my hand in her face.

_Better yet, make your girlfriend disappear  
I don't wanna hear you say her name  
Ever again and again and again_

_Cause she's like, so whatever  
And you can do so much better  
I think we should get together now  
And that's what everyone's talking about_

The other girls in glee club (in addition to Kurt) came up behind me and we started a flash mob in the middle of the hallway as I continued to sing.

_Hey! Hey! You! You!  
I don't like your girlfriend  
No way! No way!  
I think you need a new one  
Hey! Hey! You! You!  
I could be your girlfriend_

_Hey! Hey! You! You!  
I know that you like me  
No way! No way!  
You know it's not a secret  
Hey! Hey! You! You!  
I want to be your girlfriend_

_In a second you'll be wrapped around my finger  
Cause I can, cause I can do it better  
There's no other, so when's it gonna sink in?  
She's so stupid, what the hell were you thinking?  
In a second you'll be wrapped around my finger  
Cause I can, cause I can do it better  
There's no other, so when's it gonna sink in?  
She's so stupid, what the hell were you thinking?_

_Hey! Hey! You! You!  
I don't like your girlfriend  
No way! No way!  
I think you need a new one  
Hey! Hey! You! You!  
I could be your girlfriend_

Tina stormed off down the hall, leaving me and the rest of the girls (and Kurt) alone with Artie. He wheeled forward closer to me, a big smile on his face.

_Hey! Hey! You! You!  
I know that you like me  
No way! No way!  
You know it's not a secret  
Hey! Hey! You! You!  
I want to be your girlfriend_

I walked up to Artie and put my hands on either armrest of his wheelchair, coming closer and closer to him still. Our lips were about to touch…

_No way! No way!  
Hey, hey!_

"Hey! Melissa!"

I snapped my head up to look at Kurt, who had just been calling my name, then back down the hall at Artie. He closed his locker and took off towards the front of the school, alone. I had just been imagining the entire thing. I was slightly glad for that; I couldn't bear to think about how mortifying it would have been if I had actually taken off down the hall singing Avril Lavigne songs at the top of my lungs, and besides, the song wasn't exactly very nice, nor was I filled with that much hatred for Tina.

"What has gotten into you?" Kurt continued. "You've been completely checked out all day and you can't be _that _worried about Artie."

"It's nothing," I said, turning back to look at my friends.

It was odd calling Kurt and Mercedes my friends, for two reasons. The first was that I could never see myself being friends with people like them at my old school. It wasn't anything personal, but Kurt, Mercedes, and I were so different that it almost didn't seem like we should work together as a unit. Most of my friends from California had been more similar to me—we shared much of the same interests, music tastes, hobbies… The only thing Kurt, Mercedes, and I seemed to have all in common was that we were in glee club. Still, I liked them, and I liked their company, since the second reason it was so weird calling them my friends was that they were the only two friends I had made in almost a month at McKinley—I had three if you counted Artie, but we never talked outside of Spanish class or glee club.

"How long did it take you guys to make friends here?" I asked when I couldn't stand it anymore.

Kurt and Mercedes paused, shared a look, and then turned to face me. "Are you saying we're not your friends?" Kurt asked, though he didn't sound the least bit offended.

"No, you guys are great, it's just that I've been here almost a month and I don't really know anybody. I mean, there's the kids in glee, but you know most of them just tolerate me."

"No. They _tolerate _Rachel. They _like _you…at least, they would if you would ever say something."

"I can't see Santana or Puck ever liking me."

"Don't worry about them," Mercedes said. "Maybe this assignment will be a good thing for you. It'll give you a chance to get to know Artie better. Who knows? You might become friends."

My stomach fluttered at the suggestion. There was nothing I wanted more than to become friends with Artie, but I wasn't ready to tell Kurt and Mercedes that. I still couldn't quite understand what I was feeling myself.

"Actually," I said, "speaking of the assignment, I won't be able to see you guys at lunch tomorrow. I'm meeting with Artie to talk about our new glee assignment."

"Well, there you go," Kurt said. "Killing two birds with one stone. You can make a new friend and figure out what's bugging him at the same time."

I could hear a bit of suspicion in Kurt's voice, though I tried not to focus on it too much. I was too busy obsessing over seeing Artie the next day. Just as my friendship with Kurt and Mercedes was out of the ordinary, I never saw myself falling for Artie. It wasn't so much the wheelchair thing (though admittedly I hadn't ever had a crush on someone disabled before), but he was yet again not the kind of person I ordinarily found myself attracted to. But it was hard to deny the feeling I got when I saw him come into Spanish class, the gratefulness I had after my first ever slushie to the face, the way that I noticed him get jazzed up during my audition for glee club…

In Spanish the next day, he came in and greeted me with a warm smile. I tried to smile back, but it felt like the signal got mixed up on its way to my mouth. Truth be told, a hundred different thoughts and feelings were going through me. Of course there was the excitement to be paired up with Artie, but I was also nervous about the assignment.

I could barely focus on our vocabulary quiz, though from the corner of my eye I could see Artie flying through the exam. _Alright, Melissa,_ I thought to myself, biting my lip as I stared at the paper. _Get it together…_

_Preocupado…_worried. _Alegre…_happy. _Sonrisa…_what is _sonrisa_?

The rest of the words made even less sense than _sonrisa_ had. I couldn't come up with any translation for _indignar_, _odiar_, _nervioso…_

Wait, _nervioso _meant nervous, a feeling I knew all too well. I breathed a sigh of relief. Okay. I could do this…

What did _enojado _mean?

I took another glance at Artie out of the corner of my eye, wondering if he noticed how much I was struggling. He flipped his test over and set his pencil down. _Shit._

There had to be something I knew—anything…

_Amar._

Well, _that _definitely was a word that I knew well those days. In much too large letters, I wrote the translation: _to love_.

* * *

When the lunch period finally rolled around, I tried to walk nonchalantly to my locker. I swapped out my textbooks and grabbed the lunch I had brought from home. Nervously I made my way to the girl's room and looked at myself in the mirror. My hair still looked as nice as it had when I left home (I had spent an apparently inordinate amount of time curling it, judging by the way my mother had shouted no less than four times to hurry up), but my eye makeup was slightly smudged. I pulled out my eyeliner to fix it when one of the stalls opened up.

Tina walked out, giving me a shy smile when she saw me. "Hi, Melissa," she said. I turned and smiled back at her just as shyly. Well, I _tried_ to smile back, but I couldn't help but think about the conversation I had had with Kurt and Mercedes about how she was dating Artie, which made our meeting there feel awkward.

"Hi," I said back, turning back to tousle my hair.

"You look nice today," she said, running her hands under the faucet. I had chosen one of my nicest dresses—a black one with bell sleeves with a hem that fell to my knees—and a pair of black strappy gladiator sandals. "Got any plans?" TIna asked.

I could feel my cheeks heat up. "Uh, yeah, it's…it's nothing, I'm just meeting with Artie to discuss our ballad."

She stopped, causing me to turn to look at her. "Oh," she said at last, then offered me a small smile again. "Yeah, me and Mike have been working on that, too."

"Cool," I said, then put my makeup bag back in my backpack. "Well, uh, I better go. I don't want to keep him waiting."

"Yeah," she said, keeping her eyes on me as I headed towards the door. I paused right before I left, turning to look at her once more. She had turned her back to me again so I couldn't read her expression, though I doubted that she was super psyched about me working with Artie.

I left the room and headed toward the choir room. I paused just outside the doorway when I saw Artie sitting by the piano, eating his lunch. There were several pieces of sheet music strewn about the top of the instrument. I bit my lip, trying to gather the courage to walk in. I finally walked just inside the door frame and knocked against it to announce my presence.

Artie looked up and smiled. "Hey. You made it."

I gave him a small smile back and walked into the room. "Mr. Schue okay with us using the choir room?"

"Oh, yeah, totally. We use it to practice all the time."

"Great." I set my backpack down on the floor and pulled up a chair on the side of the piano. "You're not allergic to peanuts, are you?" I asked as I pulled my lunch bag out of my backpack.

"No, be my guest," he said, waving his hand. I started eating, criss crossing my legs in my chair. "So, it's been about a month, so I'm going to ask again: how is McKinley treating you?"

I swallowed, making a face at his question as he asked it. "Uh, the classes are a little bit easier. I'm still not quite sure where everything is. I like being in glee club, but…I still don't really have a ton of friends here yet."

"Aren't we friends?" Unlike when Kurt had said it the day before, Artie actually sounded genuinely hurt at the notion that we might not be friends. I tried to speak, but no words came to me. Foot, meet mouth. "I mean, you _did _offer to go to sectionals with me and my dad before we secured that bus."

I looked down at my lap, not wanting to make eye contact with him from embarrassment at this faux pas. "I mean, you're super nice to me, and I really appreciate what you did for me after my first slushie attack, but let's be honest, we don't really know that much about each other."

"Then let's change that." He held his hand out to me, forcing me to look up at him. "Hi. I'm Arthur Abrams, but you can call me Artie."

I set my sandwich down before taking his hand, with an actual, true smile on my face. "Melissa Widman, but you can call me Melissa."

"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Melissa."

"The pleasure is mine."

We spent the next several minutes just talking. Despite the fact that I had admittedly been kind of shy since moving to Ohio, I felt so at home talking to him, as though he had known each other for years. We exchanged all kinds of pointless facts about each other a la twenty questions: it turned out that both of our favorite colors were red and we both loved Chinese food, but we didn't agree on whether aliens existed (he said yes, while I was skeptical) and we had differing theories about both _Lost _and what was really happening at Area 51.

Perhaps the most exciting moment was when we exchanged phone numbers.

After talking for probably too long, Artie pointed out (rightly) that we didn't have all day and that we needed to get to what we had actually met up for: our assignment. "But I'd love to get to know you, and hear more about what exactly could be going on in Nevada if not aliens," he said, telling me to feel free to call or text him.

I stared too long at the number, the ten digits that connected me to him. As I entered the contact name (I finally decided not to put a heart at the end), he said, "Now, let's get down to business. What did you want to sing?"

I bit my lip as I put my phone away. "To, uh, to tell you the truth…if we're going to be doing this in front of everyone, I'd really prefer not to do it alone."

"Why?"

"I know you guys all liked my singing at my audition, but that was a song I've been singing my entire life. It's the song I keep in my back pocket, if you will. I don't really know any ballads and if I'm going to have to sing something I'm not comfortable with, there's no way I can do it for an audience."

"You _definitely _know some ballads. You just don't realize you do." He rested his chin on his fist, putting his elbow on his leg. "Tell me. What kind of music do you listen to?"

"It's probably no surprise, but I like mostly punk rock."

"Really? Hadn't noticed."

I looked at him inquisitively, wondering if it really had slipped his notice. He was giving me a knowing look through his lashes, the smallest hint of a smirk on his face.

"Shut up," I said, rolling my eyes. "You can't help what you like." _Or who_, I thought, though tried to ignore.

"Alright. Name a few artists you like."

"Um… Avril and Blondie, obviously," I said. Artie and I shared a smile as I continued to think. "Blink-182. Bad Religion, Dead Kennedys… Oh, the one band me and my dad both like is the Ramones, but, uh, I figure most kids our age don't listen to them."

"I do," he said.

"Really? You like the Ramones?"

"Are you kidding? The Ramones are, like, _the _punk rock band."

I couldn't help but get the biggest, cheesiest grin on my face. "I kind of pegged you as more of an easy listening fan."

"That doesn't mean I can't get down to KISS and the Clash." We both shared a small laugh. "Alright. _Pet Sematary. Rockaway Beach. Teenage Lobotomy._"

"Those aren't your suggestions for my ballad, are they?"

"They're only my three favorite songs from the Ramones. And yours are…?"

For whatever reason, the first three songs that came to mind had more to do with how I felt in the present moment than they did about my music choices:

"_Oh Oh I Love Her So, Baby I Love You_, _I Wanna Be Your Girlfriend…_" Artie looked at me with an inquisitive look on his face as I realized my Freudian slip. I shut my eyes as though to shut out the embarrassment as I corrected myself: "_Boyfriend._ I meant _Boyfriend._"

If he noticed what those songs had in common, he didn't mention it. Instead, he brought his wheelchair around the piano to come towards me. "These songs are all great, but none of them are exactly right for this assignment, nor are they accessible to most of the people in that choir room. Plus I think we both can admit that Joey Ramone's voice isn't super similar to yours. I mean, you can't understand a damn thing he's saying half the time. Yours is…different. Good different."

"Yours is good different, too."

We shared a look with one another that completely cemented in place what I already knew. If there had been any doubts before, now I knew for sure: I was falling for Artie, and falling fast. We both had the smallest of smiles on our faces as we shared this intimate moment. Was I just imagining the chemistry that I felt between us?

I finally broke eye contact with him, staring down at the sheet music strewn about the top of the piano. He started to speak finally, the smile evident even in his voice: "Well, anyway, all of those artists have ballads. Haven't you ever heard Avril's _Complicated_? Or _Heart of Glass _by Blondie? Most of the Ramones songs we just listed are ballads. But before you came here today, I kind of figured you wouldn't want to sing by yourself."

I looked back up at him again, surprised yet again by his words. "You did?"

"You sang at your audition, but ever since then, you haven't said a word in glee club. Not to me or to anyone else. And I really wish you had more to say, because I know that you have lots of amazing things to share with the world." I couldn't help but smile yet again at that. We barely knew each other, yet Artie seemed to always know what to say to make me feel good about myself. "So it's decided. For our ballad assignment, you and I will be singing a duet together."

"Wait, are you serious?"

"Absolutely. I mean, I felt a little inspired after hearing Rachel and Mr. Schue and I knew that you would need the moral support that a good duet partner would give you, so I got all the sheet music I could find for some killer ballads sung by a man and a woman. I figured there's gotta be something here that could show off our insane vocal chemistry."

I giggled. "We don't know that we have vocal chemistry."

"Well, then, there's only one way to find out, and that's by you singing with me."

"Won't Tina get upset that you're singing a duet with me?"

He furrowed his brow. "Why would Tina get upset?"

"I mean, I just figured since you two are dating that she—"

"We're not dating."

My heart stopped—not with joy, as I might have expected to be the case upon finding out that Artie and Tina weren't together, but with horror as I realized how much I had just screwed up. Was I just imagining it, but was my face burning bright red?

"You're not?"

"We were. I mean, we went on _a _date, but it just…didn't work out."

"Oh, I'm—I'm sorry."

He shook his head. "It-it's cool. We're in high school. Now's the time to experiment and test out relationships, right?"

"Yeah. Definitely. I-I mean, _I _haven't really done much experimenting or anything, I mean, there was a guy at my old school but he was kind of a jerk so, like, I don't really have much expertise when it comes to dating, and, uh, I mean, I'd _like _to, but look at me, I'm…" I trailed off, realizing what I said and how much I had been rambling. "Wow. Okay. Why did I just say all that? God, that was embarrassing."

Artie smiled at me, though I suspected that had more to do with the awkwardness of what just happened than anything else. "No. It wasn't. We're friends now, right? This is the kind of thing that friends talk about. But we really should get working before we run out of time. We still haven't figured out how we sound together."

"Well, we also haven't figured out what we're going to sing."

"Actually, I had an idea, if you don't mind." He pulled some sheet music closer to us, lining up the pages in his lap. "Are you familiar with the band We the Kings?"

I shook my head. "Never heard of them."

"Demi Lovato?"

"Uh, isn't she the one married to Ashton Kutcher?"

Artie closed his eyes, tilting his head up towards the slopes ceiling of the room as though in shame. "We have _got _to get you listening to more top 40s." He sighed, then handed me the sheet music. "No, she's a singer. And they're a rock band. I figured that their newest collaboration could be a good number for us since the male part is in my range and you have got the perfect voice for pop music."

I looked down at the music in my hands. _We'll Be A Dream _was written at the top. I skimmed the lyrics, surprised at what the song was about. "Artie, this song is…kind of romantic. Are you sure this is what you want to sing?"

"It can't be any worse than Rachel singing _Endless Love_ to Mr. Schue." He set the papers back down in his lap as I handed them back to him. "Besides, our assignment is a ballad, and you're not going to find too many male-female ballads that aren't either love songs or breakup anthems. So unless you'd rather do _You Don't Bring Me Flowers_ and risk the wrath of Rachel for doing a Barbra Streisand number, it's either this or _I Got You Babe_, which I think we can both say is an objectively terrible song."

I smirked, surprised at the sudden shift in his personality. "We the Kings is perfect. But, uh, seriously, who's Demi Lovato?"

"Not important." He went back over to the piano and held his arms out, cracking his knuckles as he did. "Let's see how well I can do this…"

"You can play piano?" I asked, yet again surprised—and impressed.

"Yeah, a bit. I'm better at guitar, though, but I can play a tune or two. Now be quiet, woman," he teased, eliciting yet another laugh from me. "Less talking, more singing."

I stood up and sat down at the piano bench he had pushed aside to make more room for his wheelchair. I looked at the sheet music and studied the words as he played. I had really only heard him once before, when we performed _Proud Mary_ in wheelchairs. His voice was beautiful and had an amazing soulful quality to it, so I was curious to see what he did with our duet. When he finally sang, it sent chills down my spine.

_Do you remember the nights we'd stay up just laughing  
Smiling for hours at anything?  
Remember the nights we drove around crazy in love…_

_When the lights go out, we'll be safe and sound  
We'll take control of the world like it's all we have to hold onto  
And we'll be a dream…_

My turn. I looked to him for reassurance and he nodded at me, not even looking at the sheet music in front of him as he continued to play the piano. When I first opened my mouth, my voice shook, but grew stronger as he continued to back me up with music.

_Do you remember the nights we made our way dreaming  
Hoping of being someone big?  
We were so young then  
We were just crazy in love…_

He joined me in the chorus, and I couldn't deny how much vocal chemistry we really did have. Despite being so different—as much as I loved punk music, I knew I was much better suited to top 40s, while he could have done any soul number with the necessary passion—our voices blended together so well, it was like the song had been written for us.

_When the lights go out, we'll be safe and sound  
We'll take control of the world like it's all we have to hold onto  
And we'll be…_

_When the lights go out, we'll be safe and sound  
We'll take control of the world like it's all we have to hold onto  
And we'll be…a dream_

The biggest smile crossed my face as our voices faded out. Artie immediately stopped playing, turning to me and offering me both his hands for a high ten. "Yes!" he said as I slapped them, trying my best to suppress a laugh. "_That's _what I'm talking about. You've got nothing to worry about. Your voice is incredible."

"It's not as good as yours," I said truthfully. I was going to continue, but a voice in the doorway stopped me. We both turned to look at the person addressing us.

"Mel, stop being so damn humble," Mercedes said. "You better be ready to sing that in front of glee club, because if you do, I assure you Rachel Berry will _wet _herself." Both Artie and I giggled, though I could do little to hide the fact that I was blushing. "Now, I know you guys are in the middle of rehearsal, but do you mind if I borrow Artie for a sec? There's something I wanted to talk to him about."

"Uh, yeah," I said, though I didn't really want him to go. "Sure."

"We can rehearse another time," Artie assured me. "In the meantime, you get over your stage fright, alright? Enjoy the rest of your lunch." Mercedes retreated, to where, I didn't know. He started to leave after her, but turned around at the last minute to turn to look at me once more. "You know…you're a lot better than you know."

He smiled at me one more time before leaving again. I had a funny feeling in my stomach when he said that. It was a feeling I hadn't felt before, but I knew what it was instantly: love. There suddenly was a new song in my heart, one that I couldn't hold in…assuming that no one started listening.

_I don't know but I think I may be falling for you  
Dropping so quickly, maybe I should keep this to myself  
Waiting till I know you better_

I gathered up all of my stuff and started walking down the hallway, pausing when I saw Artie and Mercedes taking off towards the direction of the auditorium. I continued to sing as they disappeared out of sight, as though the entire school was moving in slow motion.

_I am trying not to tell you but I want to  
I'm scared of what you'll say  
So I'm hiding what I'm feeling  
But I'm tired of holding this inside my head_

I envisioned myself in Spanish class, the rest of the class _escuchando y repitiendo_ what Mr. Schue was saying, though I was focused more on the person sitting next to me—who couldn't even seem to notice the girl sitting beside him, desperately in love with him.

_I've been spending all my time just thinking about you  
I don't know what to do  
I think I'm falling for you_

_I've been waiting all my life and now I've found you  
I don't know what to do  
I think I'm falling for you, I'm falling for you_

I could see myself by my locker, watching as Artie approached me and smiled. I couldn't help but smile back, though my heart said more than my expression ever could.

_Oh, I just can't take it  
My heart is racing  
The emotions keep spilling out_

Then there I was, standing center stage in the auditorium, singing to who, I didn't know, but there was a song that was in me that I needed to get out.

_I've been spending all my time just thinking about you  
I don't know what to do  
I think I'm falling for you  
I've been waiting all my life and now I've found you  
I don't know what to do  
I think I'm falling for you, I'm falling for you, oh_

_Oh, no, no  
Oh, I'm falling for you_

I came back to reality, finishing the song in Kurt's bedroom that Friday. Mercedes and I had come over to spend the night, and Kurt had insisted on knowing what songs we had prepared for Mr. Schue's ballad assignment. Admittedly, no one really got the chance to show off what they had prepared other than him and Rachel. We were all too busy with…other things.

When Mercedes had borrowed Artie in the middle of our rehearsal, the two of them began planning a song to show our solidarity for Finn and Quinn's situation—Quinn was pregnant, and Finn was the father. We all had ended up joining in; I was perfectly fine singing backup to him and Mercedes during _Lean On Me_, though I couldn't help but admit how much I loved his voice and the incredible kindness they had with organizing an entire performance for the two.

"Alright, let's address the horrendous pink elephant in the room," Kurt said when I finished.

"What are you talking about?" I asked.

"Melissa, your voice is beautiful, and that song is great, but it's also not you."

"I kind of figured you'd do something by, like…Avril, or the Dead Nixons," Mercedes said.

"Dead Kennedys," Kurt said quietly.

"Whatever."

"So what's with the sappy love songs?" Kurt asked.

"Yeah, I thought you and Artie were doing a duet?" Mercedes added.

I took a deep breath. "You guys are my friends, right? Can you keep a secret?"

"You know what they say," Kurt said. "Three people can keep a secret if two of them are dead."

Ignoring what he said, I decided to just go for it. "It's about Artie."

Kurt and Mercedes shared a knowing look with smirks on their faces. It was a look that told me quite plainly one thing: they already knew.

* * *

**AN: Sorry for neglecting this story for so long! With everything happening with COVID-19 I've been binge watching _Glee_ again and felt inspired to keep this story going. I also apologize for the length of this chapter, but I felt like most of what happened in it was necessary for the story. Again, I have updated the playlist on my profile to add the songs in this chapter. Last thing before I go: I'm trying to only use songs that were already released when the episode of _Glee _that each chapter was based on aired, but I've always envisioned Artie and Melissa singing _We'll Be A Dream_ and it came out just after the episode aired. It's one of few times that this happens in the story as I have quite a lot of music picked out for future chapters. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it and please follow, favorite, and review!**


	4. Hairography

**Chapter 4: Hairography**

So here's what you missed on _Glee_.

Mr. Schue made the glee club do ballads as partners with one another, which didn't really work out very well since with Melissa, the glee club has an uneven number of members, so he had to do a duet with Rachel, who kind of seemed to like him. A lot.

Artie got paired up with Melissa and they did a ballad together which was super nerve wracking for Melissa since she was really into Artie and he didn't know it, and then he chose a romantic duet for them to sing, which sort of makes sense since as Kurt said _a ballad is a love song._

Then Melissa finally confided in Kurt and Mercedes that she thinks she likes Artie after finding out that he and Tina aren't really together and that Tina kind of broke his heart, so she thought she might finally have a chance with him. One can only hope anyway, right?

And that's what you missed on _Glee_!

* * *

The look my parents gave me when I emerged from my bedroom on Monday morning said it all.

I could feel them staring at me as I flitted around the kitchen making breakfast and humming to myself—_Oh Oh I Love Her So_ by the Ramones. I pushed my long blonde hair out of my face as I spread butter on my toast, careful with the still partially wet nail polish on my fingers. I bit into my breakfast with an exaggerated expression, not wanting to smudge my lipstick.

It was Mom who finally broke the silence: "Missy, what are you wearing?"

I turned to face my parents, spreading my arms out so they could see me better. "Do you like it?" I asked.

"Uh…" was all my dad had to offer.

"You said that I should reinvent myself when we moved to Ohio, so I found this in the back of my closet and thought it would be a nice change of pace."

"It's, uh, it's very…" my mom started, but my dad interjected.

"_Loud._"

"Look, Melissa, it's great that you're branching out and expressing yourself, but…look, I'll be honest here, I'm just a little confused. You seem like you're finally at peace here. You've joined a club, made some friends—just on Friday you spent the night at the Hummels', even though I thought I'd _never_ let you sleep over with a guy—"

"Kurt's gay, Mom," I interjected.

"My point is, I just want to know what's gotten into you." My mom stood and came over to me, gesturing to my clothes. "You've changed your wardrobe…" She then started holding my chin in her hands. "You're wearing makeup…" From there, she grabbed one of my hands. "Pink nail polish? Who are you and what have you done with my daughter?" she finished as I snatched my hand away.

My dad suddenly sat up straighter, a gleam in his eyes. "Isn't it obvious, Beck? Our little girl is in love."

"Dad…" I said, embarrassed, but it was too late. My mom had already latched onto the idea and her eyes lit up in excitement. I couldn't quite tell, but it almost sounded like she _squealed_ at the idea.

"I mean, she's dressing differently, humming love songs…" He took a deep breath. "Is that perfume?"

"It's nothing, okay?" I snapped, trying to shut the conversation down. "It's just for something we're doing in glee club."

Why was I not able to just tell people the truth about Artie? It wasn't that I was embarrassed of him, not really. I suppose maybe it just had to do with the way that my last relationship had ended, as I couldn't come up with any other explanation for what was making me so secretive.

But the truth was, my dad was right. My wardrobe change wasn't because I was looking to revamp my identity or to do an assignment for the glee club—though admittedly, I did feel a bit like Rachel in it. It was because I was interested in Artie, who had just sort of broken up with Tina, and me and the other girl had incredibly similar senses of style. If I was to get his attention, I had to do something drastic.

It definitely seemed to work…in a way. When I walked into glee club that day, Artie's eyes were definitely on me. He had been wheeling himself across the room but looked up when I came in, essentially freezing in his chair with his eyes locked on me as it kept moving.

Unfortunately, he was not the only one staring. Nearly everyone in the room was giving me a weird look. Finn was staring at me the same way I had stared at my Spanish vocabulary quiz; the cheerleader Santana, who had referred to me as "California" the week before, simply had her mouth open in disbelief; Rachel's mouth had also fallen open, and her eyebrows were scrunched together in a weird way, sort of like I had shown up at school in a lobster suit.

It was the dumb blonde cheerleader, Brittany, who finally broke the silence by addressing the loudmouth diva herself: "Rachel, that was so nice of you to let Quinn's sister borrow your clothes."

Kurt broke away from the huddle of students around the piano and grabbed me by the elbow, dragging me to a chair. "What are you doing?" he hissed in my ear.

"I just thought I'd give myself a little makeover," I said. "Why is everyone freaking out?"

"You're wearing a _mustard yellow_ skirt."

Mr. Schue came into the room and started writing on the board, forcing everyone to their seats. Some stole a few glances from me as they sat, though most waited to hear what Mr. Schue had to say. Kurt continued to hiss in my ear as our teacher scribbled something on the whiteboard. "I'm all for ditching the grunge look, but this is not the way to go," he said. "I _told you_ that I would take you shopping for new clothes."

"Yeah, no offense, Kurt, but nobody can afford your style, plus it's not really my thing."

"Neither is what you're wearing now but you seem perfectly content with it. Wait, are those _striped fishnet stockings?_"

I didn't have time to argue with Kurt more, as Mr. Schue started talking about getting us prepared for sectionals coming up in a few weeks. He reminded us that our competition was going to be the glee clubs from the Jane Addams Academy and the Haverbrook School for the Deaf. I admittedly was more than a little confused on how a deaf school was to compete in a singing competition, but kept my mouth shut. Most of the rest of the club didn't seem to think that either school was going to be much competition.

The majority of our time together was spent running through dance routines, something that was more than a little difficult in my wardrobe choice for the day, but also something that I found myself enjoying. I had never thought of myself as much of a dancer, but I picked up the steps with ease. Now the question was whether we would actually be able to put together a setlist for the competition, since we hadn't yet decided on any songs. There was also the question of whether we would even keep the dance moves we had just learned, since Mr. Schue caught Brittany snapping pictures on her phone.

I had been planning on trying to talk to Artie when we were finally dismissed, but Kurt and Mercedes got to me before I had the chance. They stood one on either side of me, forcing me to go with them.

"_What_ are you doing?" I asked.

"Come on," Kurt said. "It's time for some girl talk."

I rolled my eyes, but let them lead me into the girl's bathroom, which Kurt seemed to have no qualms about going into. I leaned against the sink, folding my arms across my chest. "What's the big deal?" I asked.

"Look, I know that the reason you're dressed like this is because you're crushing on Artie," Kurt said. "The question is just, _why?_"

"Why I like Artie?"

"Why you're dressed like this."

"I just thought that I'd try to do something to get his attention, that's all."

"Oh, you _got _his attention, alright," Mercedes said.

"Melissa, you don't need to change yourself for a guy. Especially not one who dresses as bad as Artie does," Kurt said.

I frowned. "What's wrong with the way Artie dresses?"

"He wears a belt _and _suspenders at the same time."

"Maybe because he can't feel if his pants are still on?"

"Mel, if you want to change the way you look, I'm all for it," Mercedes said. "I just want to know if you looked in a mirror before you left the house?"

I finally turned around to see what was so wrong with my appearance. I had on pink lipstick and nail polish, a pastel tie dyed shirt that was tucked into the mustard yellow skirt that Kurt had hated so much, the striped fishnet stockings, and a pair of black and white Vans with a rose pattern on them. In my hair was a single pink and black butterfly clip pulling my bangs out of my face.

I sighed and turned to face my friends again. "I look awful, don't I?"

"It's not _that _bad," Mercedes said, but Kurt said, "Yes," at the same time.

I sighed yet again, grabbing a paper towel from the dispenser to wipe away my smudged lipstick. "Look, I talked to Artie the other day and he said that he isn't dating Tina, which is great for me since that means he's available, but you both know that me and her dress the same way. I'm never going to get his attention without doing something like this."

"I wouldn't say it's the same," Kurt said. "You're more punk whereas Tina is more goth. Very similar styles but the nuance is important."

"It doesn't matter anyway, okay?" I said, wadding up my paper towel and throwing it in the trash. "He's never going to be interested in me. I totally made myself look like an idiot in front of him when we were practicing our ballad."

"Plus today showing up dressed like that," Kurt said, pointing at my skirt, his other arm across his chest.

"Wait, I saw you two rehearsing and he seemed totally into it," Mercedes said.

"Yeah, but before you came in, I ran my mouth and said a lot of really embarrassing stuff, and I think I let slip that I wanted to be his girlfriend—"

"_What?_" Kurt and Mercedes said at the same time.

"It's fine. We were talking about music and it just slipped out. It's a Ramones song. Sort of. Anyway, point is, I don't have a chance with him so I might as well give up."

"Look," Mercedes said. "I'll be honest, I'm not at all surprised that you like Artie. He's nice, and sweet, and you guys make a great team. But if he doesn't like you for _you_—wardrobe and all—then I'm sorry but he's not the right guy for you."

I looked down at my feet, thinking over what Mercedes said. I felt so embarrassed. God, were those tears in my eyes? I sniffled, wiping my nose with the pad of my thumb before looking back up at my friends. I shook my head and let out yet another sigh. "I'm such an idiot."

"Don't dwell on it," Kurt said. "We've all done stupid things for love."

"I threw a rock through Kurt's windshield once because I liked him and he didn't like me back," Mercedes said.

I gave her a strange look, but before I could ask what that meant (and before I could get any sort of explanation from either), Kurt continued, "If you really do want to change yourself, though, _please _consult me next time, because let's be honest, your attempt was pretty awful."

I tried to smile, though I still had tears in my eyes. "Thanks, Kurt," I said in a weak voice, "but I think I'm just going to go back to my usual self."

"Well, when you come to your senses, the offer stands."

I couldn't say that I didn't appreciate the offer, though. I had really been blown away by the support that Mercedes and Kurt had offered me upon finding out about my feelings for Artie. Truth be told, I was a horrible liar, and they saw right through the excuse that I was worried about him. Mercedes also was able to read the expression on my face when she saw Artie and I rehearsing, and had put two and two together to know that I had feelings for him. I hadn't told them the truth—not the whole truth, anyway: that I suspected I might be in love with him.

* * *

Mercedes was right. If I wanted to be with Artie, I had to be myself. The next day I put on my regular attire—black distressed jeans, a white T-shirt, and a short sleeved silk cardigan—ready to try to face the world as myself.

When I appeared downstairs for breakfast, my mom told my dad, "I told you it was a phase."

"I wish this was the phase," my dad said, clearly thinking I couldn't hear him.

* * *

As the week progressed, though, I couldn't help but wonder what was wrong with getting a makeover. Mr. Schue had invited the girls from Jane Addams to perform for us, and they apparently psyched him out, because he decided we were going to do a number focused on what he and Rachel termed "hairography". This included getting incredibly horrible wigs for all of the guys, who were considerably lacking in the hair department.

I also got word that Kurt had offered his makeover services not only to me but to another, rather unlikely, person: Rachel.

Artie and I didn't speak much that week, other than a quick "hi" or "hello" in Spanish class. I couldn't help but wonder whether my short lived makeover had scared him off. Most people hadn't quite forgotten about it. When I had walked into glee club the day after, I almost ran directly into Finn, who did a double take when he saw me.

"Oh, Melissa, I almost didn't recognize you," he said. "You changed out of your clown costume."

I pretended that this comment didn't offend me. Still, if I wanted to change myself, I _did _need help. When Kurt walked in the day we got our hairography inspired setlist, I gestured him over to the seat next to me. As he sat, I leaned over and whispered in his ear, "Is it too late to take you up on your offer?"

I could feel him perk up next to me, but he said, "What made you change your mind?"

"I was just thinking about how we've sort of changed our image as a glee club this week, so change isn't necessarily a bad thing, plus I heard that you helped Rachel out with a style makeover…"

"You _do _know I did that to sabotage her, right?"

"I know how you feel about Rachel. How _everyone _feels about Rachel. But we're friends, so I trust you to be a help instead of a hindrance to me."

"After rehearsal, we're going to the mall and giving you a new look."

I grinned, locking my eyes on Artie as he came into the room. I couldn't deny that I was looking forward to what Kurt and I could come up with together. I sent a quick text to my dad to let him know that I was going to get a ride home from Kurt.

He had finally gotten his car back from his dad (the windshield seemed fine, so whatever happened between him and Mercedes must have already been dealt with), so he drove me to the mall to get started. To my great surprise, he even relinquished control of the radio to let me play whatever I wanted.

"One condition, though," he said, checking his mirror. "No Avril Lavigne."

Smirking, I plugged in my iPod and said, "I have the perfect song for the occasion, actually."

The song filled the car as we drove down the road. Kurt looked at me out of the corner of his eye and grinned as the song started. The lyrics were stuck in my head as he dragged me around, first to a makeup counter filled with colors I wouldn't have ever chosen for myself.

_All my makeup, it has washed off  
I need a touch up  
Mascara all up in my eyes_

Next came a haircut. Admittedly, I needed a trim; my split ends were becoming a bit unmanageable and I had been thinking of getting streaks or highlights for a while as it was. Still, it was a little unnerving when the stylist actually started to put the foils in and cut away at my long blonde locks.

_Chemical hair dyes and highlights  
Higher than my lights  
Higher than highlights  
My makeup, it has washed off_

Kurt and I walked by LensCrafters. He tried to get me to go in, but if I had to put my foot down somewhere, it was there: I wore glasses, and that had never bothered me. He could try all he wanted, but I was not switching to contact lenses, and I also wasn't getting a new frame considering the pair I was wearing—a cateye shaped, split color frame—was still pretty new. Besides, Artie himself wore glasses.

That meant only one thing left: new clothes and shoes. Naturally each outfit had to get the Kurt seal of approval, so he took a seat outside the changing room and expressed his (sometimes too) honest thoughts about each one.

_I need a touch up  
I need a touch up  
I need a touch up_

_I need a touch up  
Need a nip and a tuck  
Need to be cropped and cut  
I need a touch up  
I need a haircut  
I need a shave and a pluck  
To help me get my love_

Very few outfits made it out of the dressing room due to Kurt's incredible scrutiny. Still, we had a few frontrunners, and I was actually eagerly awaiting getting dressed the next day. We left the mall with our hands heavier and our pockets lighter—Kurt naturally picked a few things out for himself.

As we were driving back home, I looked out the window, the lyrics from Mother Mother still ringing in my ears. But more importantly, there was a new thought in my head: this was really what it felt like to have a friend.

_I am a, a makeover queen  
A swan out of duckling  
Ugly duckling, you are drowning  
In makeup, my makeup has washed off_

The next morning I stood before my mirror, taking in the change. Admittedly, my hair did look nicer with the highlights—the stylist had used a technique that she referred to as a "balayage", which had created dimension to my hair, as well as the layers she had cut in. She also had cut my copycat Avril bangs straight across my brow, which I was still getting used to, but really did frame my face nicely.

The outfit, though, would take some getting used to, as well as the makeup. I was fine with the lipstick (red was my favorite color, after all), but the techniques that the cosmetologist had used were somewhat lost on me and difficult to duplicate. The sandals were uncomfortable, as was the belt and pink skirt combo I was in. I had a white button up shirt tucked into the skirt—admittedly, it _did _look better than when I had attempted this same look when I made over myself—and a beige cardigan with the sleeves folded back exactly twice (Kurt's insistence).

_Yeah, I need a, I need a  
Touch up, touch up  
Too much touch up touches me up  
Too much touch up, I…_

I took a deep breath before going to school, thinking to myself, _here goes nothing._

* * *

I wasn't immune to the stares that I got in the hallway. Mostly they came from people in my classes who weren't quite sure where they recognized me from, but there were a few people that I didn't know taking me in as well. I walked up to Kurt and Mercedes at her locker, letting out a sigh to announce my presence.

"Look at you!" Mercedes said, nodding her approval.

"I feel ridiculous," I said, tugging at the sleeves of the cardigan.

"Come on, Melissa," Kurt said, rolling his eyes. "You've _got _to admit this is better than the time you took fashion advice from Rachel."

"I'll give you that," I said, "but honestly, Kurt, this isn't me."

"Isn't that the whole point?"

"When are you going to talk to Artie?" Mercedes asked.

"I was hoping I could catch him alone before glee rehearsal, so if you guys could…"

"Stall everyone?" Kurt and Mercedes said in unison.

"We've got you covered," Kurt said. "I can only guarantee approximately two and a half minutes, though, so use your time wisely."

I nodded, though I didn't think two and a half _hours _would even be enough time. Besides, that was the day that we were set to perform for the Haverbrook School for the Deaf, so I knew that I didn't have a ton of time. I spent most of the day trying to come up with a plan, eventually scrapping all at the last minute in favor of just seeing where I could get to in the moment.

When I got to the choir room, I hesitated before peaking around the corner. I didn't know what strings Kurt and Mercedes had to pull, but there _he _was, all by himself, just as promised. I came into the room slowly, diving right in with a, "Hey."

Artie looked up at me and paused, taking me all in. "Hey," he said at last, in a voice that was different than usual. Did I dare say he sounded mesmerized?

I took a few steps closer to him, pointing at the chair next to him. "Mind if I…"

"N-no, go for it," he said, so I set my backpack down on the floor and sat in it.

My heart was pounding as I searched for something to say. "I didn't get to talk to you in Spanish class today," I said.

"Well, that is what happens when you come in three minutes late."

"Oh, I was just, uh, in the girl's room. You know, fixing my makeup," I added, gesturing to my lipstick, trying to draw attention to it.

"Mmm hmmm."

Silence fell over us again. How did girls like Quinn manage to talk to guys so effortlessly while I was already crashing and burning after a grand total of twenty seconds?

"You, uh, you nervous about the performance today?" I asked. "I know that you're featured quite heavily in it."

"No, it's cool. Performing doesn't really make me nervous that much anymore."

"Ah."

Why was I blanking on what to say already? There wasn't that much time left until everyone started showing up for our performance. I had to think fast.

"Yeah, I, uh, I know I'm supposed to be in my outfit for the performance already," I said, looking at the ripped jeans that I knew Artie most certainly did not pick out for himself, "but I just thought I'd stop by and—"

"What are you doing?" Artie asked in a quiet voice.

"Wh—what?" I asked.

"This isn't you."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, _this,_" he said, motioning towards my outfit. "And whatever it was that you pulled out of your closet last week. When you first joined the glee club and Mr. Schue made everyone start using a wheelchair, you told me that you were trying to tone down your appearance to make everyone else happy. And I told you that no matter how you presented yourself, we'd like you."

I was surprised at this outburst, unable to come up with anything to say except, "Let's be honest, most people in glee club don't really like me."

"We _all_ like you. And we like you _because _you're you. Because you unapologetically listen to Avril Lavigne and the Ramones, and you wear black most of the time, and mostly because you're not afraid to show people who you really are. That's the thing that I like most about you."

My heart continued to pound in my chest at that last sentence. Artie liked me. Maybe not romantically (only time would be able to tell), but he actually, truly liked me. I stared down at the floor and searched for something to say.

"So you don't like the way I look?"

"Of course I do, but I also like the way you look in ripped jeans and dark colors, and I know you do, too. So why are you doing this?" I looked up at him, unable to read his expression. "Why are you trying so hard to change who you are?"

"I…" Did I tell him the truth? Did I dare admit already to the fact that I had feelings for him? I opened my mouth, but Mercedes' message started ringing in my head and what ended up coming out was, "I wanted certain people to like me, but I guess that I don't really want their approval if they don't like the real me."

"Well, whoever those people are, they're idiots if they don't like the real you."

I looked into Artie's eyes, able to see in them that he was truly speaking his mind. He genuinely did like me—_me_, the girl who had been pretty much an outcast from the second she walked into this school.

"But when we first met," I said, "you told me that change could be a good thing."

"Yeah, it _can_, but I meant changing your routine or moving to a new state, not pretending to be someone you're not."

"I guess you're right," I said. "I mean, I even told Kurt that I didn't feel comfortable in this."

"And you told Kurt that because…?"

"Well, number one, he's one of three friends that I have at this school, and yes, I consider you one. But to tell you the truth, this whole makeover thing was Kurt's idea. But he also wouldn't have done it if I hadn't suggested a change first. The other outfit was my idea—my _horrible_ idea." He laughed, finally breaking eye contact with me. I couldn't help but crack a smile. "Was it really as bad as I think it was?" Artie hesitated, rubbing the back of his head, so I added, "Be honest. Finn told me it looked like a clown costume."

"I don't mean to be rude, but we kind of thought someone had broken into your house and stolen all of your clothes."

That elicited a laugh from me, too. "No, that wasn't rude. It was honest. Like I should be." I knew that would be the perfect moment to just confess my feelings, but there was something else I wanted to be brutally honest about. "And speaking of honesty, I think we can both agree that those wigs you guys are wearing are terrible."

We both laughed yet again. "They're _so _awful," Artie said. "It's like having a giant spider on my head. But speaking of the assignment, you really picked the perfect time to get a new haircut. It actually looks really nice. It…it suits you."

"Thank you," I said, smiling at him. "That…that really means a lot, coming from you."

Just as I felt I was gathering up the courage to confess what I was feeling, the rest of the glee club came walking into the room. I glanced up and saw that most of them were already wearing their costumes for the performance, yet I still looked like a Barbie doll. I rose out of my chair and grabbed my backpack, then turned back to Artie before leaving.

"I better go change," I said. "For the performance, that is."

"That's one change I'll let you make," he said with a smile on his face, taking the brakes off his chair and joining the guys as they started putting on their wigs.

Kurt and Mercedes stopped me at the door. "Well?" Mercedes asked.

"You two talk?" Kurt asked.

I looked over my shoulder at Artie as Matt, one of the football players, helped him put his wig on. The smile on his face was still there, just as broad as it had been when we were talking, and I doubted it had anything to do with his new locks. I allowed myself a grin as well.

"I did," I said, then turned back to my friends. "And while I appreciate your help, I think the best way to get his attention is to not change a thing about myself."

* * *

**AN: Thanks for reading! Again, the song that Melissa sings in this chapter is included in the playlist on my profile. Things are about to start heating up between them in the next couple of chapters, so thanks for being patient with the build up. Please be sure to favorite, follow, and review!**


	5. Mattress

**Chapter 5: Mattress**

So here's what you missed on _Glee._

With Sectionals quickly approaching the glee club is in high gear preparing for the competition. Well, that is until Mr. Schue told them that they were going up against a continuation school and an academy for the deaf.

Mr. Schue told them that their new assignment for glee club was hairography, which Rachel thinks is kind of dumb, since it just kind of involves twirling your hair around and not doing much else. It doesn't really involve any talent. Plus all of the boys in glee club got some really terrible wigs.

Melissa is really starting to fall in love with Artie, but she really doesn't know if she can compete with Tina, who used to date Artie and who dresses the exact same way that Melissa does. _I wouldn't say it's the same. You're more punk whereas Tina is more goth._ So Kurt decided to give her a makeover after her own attempt at makeover backfired—_you changed out of your clown costume_—but it turns out Artie likes her for who she is, which might be the first break she's gotten since moving to Lima.

And that's what you missed on _Glee_!

* * *

Several weeks had passed, and I still wasn't any closer to admitting how I felt to Artie. A huge part of me wanted to stop being so afraid of what might happen and tell him how I felt. Mercedes was right in her assessment: Artie was incredibly kind and sweet. I was sure that if I told him and he didn't feel the same, he wouldn't let it get in the way of our friendship…but that was a risk I wasn't sure I was ready to take just yet.

The truth was that I still felt like an outsider every time I entered any room at school. I enjoyed the glee club, and Kurt and Mercedes seemed to genuinely like me. Artie, too, could be considered a friend of mine in that he didn't seem to mind talking to me, though we never exactly hung out outside of school the way that I did with Kurt and Mercedes. That had to be the reason I was so afraid to tell him, I figured: I couldn't lose one of the only friends I had managed to make in Ohio.

Truth be told, I hated Lima. I hated feeling so lonely. I was far from popular in California, but at least there I knew I had friends to support me—friends who largely hadn't reached out to me once since the move. My phone and Skype calls mostly went unanswered. Admittedly, I wasn't great at remembering the time difference between Fresno and Lima (Ohio was three hours ahead), but even when I did take it into consideration, nobody seemed to want to talk.

Kurt and Mercedes had taken me under their wing, but there were times when it felt more like they expected me to just sit back and listen to their conversations rather than actually contribute. Such was the case when it was announced that glee club was not getting a club photo in the school yearbook, the Thunderclap.

At first, I was horrified to find out that we weren't being allocated a photo. It seemed absolutely unfair, especially when Kurt and Mercedes showed me old copies they had gotten from the school library and saw just how many pages the Cheerios were given (I stopped counting after four). I had found fairly quickly that the Cheerios were the top dogs at the school, and that had more to do with their coach, Sue Sylvester, than it did with the team itself.

I stopped caring as much when they flipped a couple pages and I saw what happened to the glee club picture. Crude drawings had been scribbled on top of most of the faces in the picture, and I couldn't tell if some of the insults were more creative or just downright cruel.

Most of us had been relieved at the news that there would be no photo—that is, until Mr. Schue walked in and said that there _would _be one after all. Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on who you asked), only two members got to be in the photo, and we had to put it to a vote to see who would be in it. I thought about volunteering myself despite what had happened to past pictures, but my friends had some advice to offer me.

"You're already an outcast," Kurt told me. "Trust me. You _do not_ want to be in this photo."

As much as I preferred his company to being alone, Kurt was starting to bug me. At times, he could be just as opinionated as Rachel. After he had taken me shopping and unsuccessfully tried to change my look, he seemed downright annoyed with me when I showed up every day and he saw what I was wearing. After a while, he stopped asking why I wasn't wearing what he had picked out and just outright started suggesting what I should wear the next day.

I had slowly started drifting away from him, considering his advice for getting Artie's attention was to change myself. Instead, I started making nightly phone calls to Mercedes so we could talk about it. Her advice mostly was just to talk to him and be myself, though that was getting me nowhere. I was debating giving up—on Artie, on trying to be happy in Ohio, on most of my friendships.

I was hopelessly alone.

* * *

I was walking to the cafeteria one day when all of a sudden I felt my cell phone buzzing in my pocket. My heart skipped a beat when I saw that Artie had texted me, but the celebration was short lived when I realized that he had similar sentiments to what everyone had been telling me that week:

_1 message from Artie Abrams: I am begging you not to take that yearbook photo with Rachel. It would be committing social suicide._

I had been rather surprised at just how vehement everyone had been about me not taking a photo with Rachel. When we voted on who should be in the glee club photo, I thought for a second about doing it, at the very least to have _something _to show for my social life in Lima. But thinking about what Kurt said about me being an outcast, no matter how hurt it made me feel, I cast my vote for Rachel, just like everyone else—including Rachel.

Artie was at least the seventh person to tell me not to take the photo, and I didn't even realize that some of the people who had spoken up even knew I existed. Who knew that Mike even talked?

I started to text him back when all of a sudden a voice behind me made me jump, nearly dropping my phone on the floor.

"Melissa, hi!"

I turned around and gave my best fake smile to the loudmouth standing in front of me. "Hi," I said, hoping that if maybe I kept walking, she'd leave me alone.

That proved to be no good. Rachel caught up to me and walked in sync with me, even when I tried to slow down or speed up to get away from her.

"Let me introduce myself. I'm Rachel Berry."

"I know. We're in glee club together."

"Well, I've just never really had a chance to give a proper introduction. You also haven't said a word to me despite the fact that you've been here for almost two months now."

"That's because you don't really let anyone speak…"

"I just have a lot of ideas. Oh, I should tell you about my plans to have Mr. Schuester dedicate an entire week to the collected works of one Ms. Barbra Streisand—"

"Is there something I can help you with?"

"Actually, I think that there's something _I_ can help _you _with." Even though Rachel and I were basically the exact same height, something about her larger than life personality (and ego) intimidated me, like a cobra waiting to strike. "I know your secret, Melissa."

My heart started pounding. Did she mean she knew about Artie? Or was it possible that she knew about the _other _secret I was hiding?

"And what secret is that?" I asked, coming to a stop, hoping nothing in my voice betrayed that I actually _was _hiding something.

"I happen to know that you suffer from stage fright, which I can assure you is totally normal."

Oh, _that _secret. I breathed a small sigh of relief. "Uh, great."

"I mean, I don't know personally, since I've been performing since before I was in preschool. But you don't need to worry about that, because I have quite a few ideas about our set list for sectionals which feature me quite heavily on lead vocals. All you need to do is sway in the background and provide a few ambient 'oohs' and 'ahs'."

Was I missing something? "Is that really why you stopped me to talk to you?"

"Well, I figured that if I did you a favor, you might be willing to do one for me."

"You hogging our set list isn't really doing me a favor…"

I wasn't sure if Rachel was just outright ignoring me or if she was just so invested in herself that she couldn't stop talking (I personally favored the latter, though), but she continued on without addressing my latest comment, "As I'm sure you know, photos for this year's edition of the Thunderclap are coming up and we can have two people representing the glee club."

"Yeah, I kind of figured you'd want to handle that one on your own, actually, considering literally everyone voted for you."

"Well, while I am honored by the glee club's faith in me as their charismatic leader, including you, I was just thinking about how great it would be for you, a lowly transfer student, to help me represent the glee club in that photo."

"I've been told to say no to you."

Rachel folded her arms over her chest, instantly striking fear into my being. "By who?"

"Pretty much everyone in glee club."

"I figured you'd be a hard sell. Luckily, I've come prepared. I have some more advice for you. I know that it might still be a little intimidating for you to stand in the background while I sing my solo, so I'll let you know what makes me so great: practice. I upload a video to my MySpace every day. Well, I used to, but between all of my schoolwork and extracurriculars, I'm down to four times a week."

"Don't people usually leave really mean comments on those videos?"

"The criticism just makes you better. When I graduate and you're one of the only female vocalists left in the glee club, we'll need you at your best and there's only so much that singing a single Blondie song can do for you. Am I correct in assuming you're a mezzo-soprano?"

"Look, Rachel, I'm flattered that you want me to be in the photo with you, and that you want me to be better at…being your backup singer, but I really don't think I'm the right person to choose. I still don't really have many friends at this school and I don't think posing for a club photo is going to help that."

"But see, that's why you're the perfect pick! No one knows you, not even most of the people in glee club, so what are the odds that the photo will get defaced?"

"I think it's probably higher since people don't know me. They won't exactly have any reservations about leaving mean comments about me, both in the yearbook and on any MySpace videos I upload."

"You don't need to _upload_ the videos. Just film them. Trust me. You'll thank me for this later. Now, when we take the yearbook photo, you might want to consider wearing something a little brighter. Most people look good in black and gray, but you're considerably pale and have light colored hair, so you look a little washed out. Red is a step in the right direction, but it clashes with the pink undertones of your complexion. I'm sure Kurt could help you find something."

I looked down at my outfit that day—black and red flannel shirt, black T-shirt, and tight dark gray jeans—and folded my arms protectively over my chest.

"I don't know if you heard me, Rachel, but I'm not doing it," I said.

"Did—did you say no?" Rachel said in shock, as though this was the first time anyone had said the word to her.

"Yes. My answer stands. I really don't want to be in that photo. But, uh, thanks for the advice with the whole singing thing."

I walked away from her then, but I had to hand it to Rachel: filming myself singing wasn't such a bad idea. It was sort of like having an audience without any of the pressure. Maybe I could give it a try. What did I have to lose?

* * *

The next day, I got a text message from Rachel, of all people: _EMERGENCY GLEE CLUB MEETING IN THE CHOIR ROOM ASAP!_

I was fairly close by as it was, so I took a detour towards the choir room upon reading her text. I was terrified to find out what was going on. This _had better be good,_ I thought as I walked, but stopped short as I walked into the room. There was only one other person in the room. They were plucking away at a red guitar, and though I wasn't the biggest fan of pop rock, I thought I could recognize the tune.

"You're really good," I said.

Artie looked up and smiled at me, setting the guitar down. He started to cross the room to where I went to sit down in a chair. He shrugged as he got settled. Why was he being so noble?

"Seriously," I said. "That's really cool that you're so good at guitar. I've always wanted to learn to play an instrument. I guess I just never had time."

"Well, guitar is pretty easy. Although I do have a bit of an advantage since I already use my hands a lot." He mimed pushing his wheelchair, making me grin.

"Guess I won't ever be as good as you, then. I never exactly got the hang of using a wheelchair for _Proud Mary_."

"You know…I could teach you a few chords."

"What?" I asked, shocked.

"Come on, I'll show you."

"N-no, you really don't have to do that."

"Of course I don't, but I want to." He wheeled himself to the band equipment, giving me no choice but to follow. I pulled up a chair next to him as he picked up the guitar. "Avril Lavigne's got a few good songs for beginners. _Complicated _only uses four chords." Then he showed me, strumming as he said each one: "D minor…A sharp…F…and C. Easy."

I shook my head. "You've already lost me."

"It's simple. Here, take her."

"It's a her?" I asked.

"Just like cars and boats." He handed me the guitar. I took it from him awkwardly. It felt heavy and foreign in my hands. "So—D minor." To my great surprise, he grabbed onto my hand and adjusted my fingers on the fretboard. I had had my eyes on my hands, but when he started adjusting my grip, I couldn't help but look up at him. The butterflies in my stomach were going absolutely crazy. "Alright, strum."

I did, turning my gaze downward once more, and winced at the rather unmelodic sound that came out. "It's alright," he said, almost like a kindergarten teacher. "Just use a little less force." He nodded at me to do it again. The sound that came out was slightly less abrasive that time. "That's it. And this is A sharp," he said, moving my fingers again. I took the hint and strummed. "Now, F." The pattern continued: he moved my fingers, I strummed. "And C."

When I played that note, he said, "There you go. The chords to _Complicated._ Surprisingly uncomplicated, right?"

I looked up to meet his gaze. He was smiling at me, but when our eyes met, both of our expressions turned more serious. I opened my mouth to say something, but a voice in the doorway beat me to the punch.

"Get a room," Santana said as she walked in.

Embarrassed, I handed the guitar back to Artie. He put the guitar away as though nothing had happened as the rest of the glee club filed in. I tried to avoid looking at him, keeping my eyes straight ahead, even as Rachel got up to shut the door and announced, "I'd like to call this meeting to order."

As she started to close it, Finn walked in. Clearly annoyed, Rachel said, "Hello, Finn. How nice of you to show."

I noticed Quinn giving me and Artie an odd look, though I did my best to ignore it as we moved to take our seats. Somehow, as though magnetically attracted to him, I found myself sitting beside the boy in the wheelchair again, hoping nobody noticed. Luckily, Finn took the attention off of us as he asked Quinn, "Do you think I have a potato head?"

"Okay, look," Rachel began. "I realize now that all of you think glee club is just a joke. Okay? And you're convinced that we can't win, and you're content to just sit idle by until Figgins cancels the club."

That might have been true for some of the people in the room, but it wasn't for me personally. At least, I didn't _think _it was true for me. I thought I enjoyed being in glee club, even if I wasn't really friends with most of the people in the room.

I didn't have time to dwell on this, though, as Rachel continued, "Well. I'm about to present to you a rare opportunity: the opportunity to become…stars."

Though I had been avoiding eye contact with him, Artie and I shared a look at this announcement. I couldn't deny that I was curious, and Artie too looked intrigued. What exactly did Rachel have in mind?

"How?" Quinn asked.

"We've all been cast in a local commercial."

Several people gasped, but I was filled with dread. The butterflies in my stomach turned to straight lead. A _commercial?_

"Are you serious?" Finn asked.

"Yes, Finn, and while all of you have been so concerned with your appearance in this school, _I've _landed glee club its first big break. Simply put, making us all celebrities. Okay? And no one messes with celebrities _or _defaces their pictures."

"What's the commercial?" Tina asked.

"Hold onto your hats and get ready to sell…some mattresses!"

The room erupted into excited whispers and chatter. Artie immediately told me, "I'm getting a nice pair of black suspenders. Simple black."

I tried to force a smile, but I couldn't stop thinking about the terrifying prospect of being on television. It was one thing to sing in front of people that I knew and (sort of) trusted, but acting on television?

From behind me, I could hear Mercedes tell Kurt, "Let's do our camera face."

Rachel started to fill us in on all the details, but I could feel a knot forming in my stomach. Once we got everything squared away, I made a break to be one of the first to leave. Unfortunately for me, Kurt and Mercedes were quick to ambush me.

"What are you planning on wearing for the commercial?" Kurt asked me.

"Um…"

"I'd recommend one of the outfits I got you. Probably the pink scalloped skirt and the black and white striped T-shirt. It's arguably the most comfortable which makes it perfect for a mattress commercial."

"You know, Kurt, I'm not sure that's the right look for this," I said,

"And you think this is?" he said, gesturing to what I was wearing. "Every moment of your life is an opportunity for fashion."

"Are you saying _this _isn't fashion?"

"You want to fit in, don't you? I'm just trying to help."

"Believe it or not, Kurt, I like the way I look and present myself, including the way I dress."

"Okay, so about the commercial…" Mercedes said in an attempt to diffuse the tension.

"Really? Because you seemed to jump at the chance to change things up just last week."

"And I told you I felt stupid doing it."

"I'm trying to _help you,_ Melissa. You _asked me_ for help."

"I appreciate it, Kurt, but I'm making it fine on my own."

"Really? Because tell me how many people at this school have had more than two conversations with you besides me, Mercedes, and Artie? And how exactly are things going between you and him, anyway? Because as far as I know, you're still at square one."

"Kurt…" Mercedes warned, but at this point, I had heard enough.

"I don't want your help, Kurt," I said, my blood boiling. "I don't want to dress like some princess because frankly, that's not who I am. Tell me, exactly, how many friends _you _have outside of that choir room?"

"Mel—" Mercedes tried to interject again, but I was done.

"Because last I checked, there weren't very many. I don't need your advice. Look at the way you dress and tell me how popular you think you are. You're not helping me, you're making me even more of a freak. Just…leave me alone."

With that, I left, not wanting to talk to Kurt, not wanting to do this stupid commercial, not wanting to be in Ohio anymore.

* * *

The commercial turned out more fun than I had been expecting. Though the initial script was abysmal, Rachel had managed to persuade the producer to take it in another direction entirely. We had been dressed in some of the softest pajamas I had ever worn (which saved me the wrath of Kurt when he realized I showed up wearing my regular clothes, though we _did _ignore each other the entire shoot), jumping up and down like children on the mattresses. Since we pointed out we were a glee club, we got to perform (what else?) _Jump_ by Van Halen. Matt and I even helped Artie get some air, and I couldn't tell if my heart was beating from all the exercise or from being so close to him.

I felt slightly better about my stage fright, but there was one thing I hadn't tried yet…and I couldn't believe I was about to.

My parents had bought me a webcam for my laptop so that I could keep in touch with all my friends back home, but after my best friend Gigi had ignored all of my last few calls, it hadn't been used much. I barely remembered how to operate it, but after some finagling, I managed to get it plugged in and saving to a USB flash drive plugged into my laptop. I figured I would start with a song I knew well, so I pulled up Avril's album _Under My Skin _and played one of the only songs that could express how I was feeling: _Fall to Pieces_.

I pressed record and started to sing, thinking, _here goes nothing._

_I looked away  
Then I looked back to you  
You tried to say  
Things that you can't undo_

_If I had my way  
I'd never get over you  
Today's the day  
I pray that we make it through  
Make it through the fall  
Make it through it all_

_And I don't want to fall to pieces  
I just want to sit and stare at you  
I don't want to talk about it  
And I don't want a conversation  
I just want to cry in front of you  
I don't want to talk about it  
Cause I'm in love with you… _

My phone started ringing. To my surprise, the caller ID said Kurt Hummel.

I shut the music off and put my phone on speaker. As soon as I answered and before I could even say hello, Kurt jumped right in: "Alright, turn the Avril Lavigne music off. We need to have a serious chat."

"How did you know I was listening to Avril Lavigne?"

"Let's be honest, Melissa, you're always listening to Avril Lavigne. Now this little attitude you've got going lately was cute at first, but you need to stop acting like a diva."

I blinked in surprise. "I'm sorry, did _you _just call _me _a diva?"

"You have any other name for it? You're taking a page out of _Rachel's_ book. She told me that you went to her for advice."

"_Went to her for advice?_ She _forced_ it on me, the same way _you _did it to me! Kurt, I appreciate you and I'm glad we're friends, but I don't need your advice, okay?"

"Friends help each other. You won't listen to anything I have to say, but I know all about the little phone calls you've been having with Mercedes. If you don't want me to help you, you should have just said so from the beginning."

"_I did!_ But you've been acting weird and manipulating me ever since you found out that I'm in love with Artie."

"I beg your pardon?"

At this point, I began shouting, I was so angry. "I said, _I'm in love with Artie!_ Okay? I don't care. I like him, a lot. He's kind, and he likes me, for me. I don't need you to dress me up like your little Barbie doll to get his attention when he gives it to me on his own."

"And how far exactly have you gotten with him?"

"I've gotten farther with him on my own than I ever have with you! I'm in love with him, Kurt, and he's made it very clear to me that he likes me the way that I am, so nothing you say is going to change me. I'm sick of having to change myself to feel like you'll like me when the guy I'm in love with is perfectly fine with me being who I've been the past fourteen years."

"Here's a little wakeup call for you: boys come and go, but you find a real friend once in a blue moon. I _do _like you, Melissa, even if you look like a walking mannequin for Hot Topic. What I _don't _like is this hot and cold thing you've got going on lately. I offered to help you because you were my friend, but since you don't need my help any longer, I think it's time we went our separate ways."

Was he telling me he didn't want to be my friend anymore? This couldn't be happening. If I lost Kurt, I lost Mercedes, too. I knew that she would never take my side in any argument, not when she and Kurt were so close. I bit my lip and took a breath, trying my best to make sure my voice didn't betray just how heartbroken I was feeling.

"Fine by me," I said through my teeth, my jaw clenched tight. "I don't want to keep you from your stupid tiara collection or your stupid skin care ritual. And I don't need your help with Artie. Why don't you call me when _you _manage to find a boyfriend?"

I hung up then, knowing I had said too much and went too far. As soon as I hung up the phone, tears started forming in my eyes. What I had just said was a low blow. I couldn't believe I had said all of that to one of my only friends. As soon as the words left my mouth, I wanted to take them back.

I slammed my laptop shut. The red light on my webcam shut off as it stopped recording. It was stupid, but as it flickered off, I felt my friendship with Kurt go with it.

I knew I had just messed up, big time.

* * *

**AN: Sorry it's been so long without an update. I hope everyone is staying safe with COVID and everything else going on in the news. I know Kurt was a little OOC in this chapter, but it's setting up the next big plot point. Also, the next chapter is probably going to be the longest of this story. I only have about half of it written and it's already about as long as this chapter is. However, that chapter is the one where all the things are going to start happening, so I hope you bear with me! I have the beginning of a new Glee story up if you would like to check it out. Like always, the link on my profile has Melissa's song from this chapter added to it. Again, please be sure to favorite, follow, and review!**


	6. Sectionals

**Chapter 6: Sectionals**

So here's what you missed on _Glee_.

Melissa Widman transferred from a school in California to William McKinley High School in Lima, Ohio and she's really struggling to fit in. She joined the glee club after her neighbor and sort of friend Kurt convinced her it was a safe space, but so far she's been alienated by Rachel and gotten teased by bullies. And Kurt's not really speaking to her either after she insulted him on the phone. _I offered to help you because you were my friend, but since you don't need my help any longer, I think it's time we went our separate ways. Fine by me._

It doesn't really seem like anyone wants to be her friend, especially not Tina, because both Melissa and Tina have their eyes on Artie, who sort of seems to like them both. But Melissa doesn't think she can compete with Tina considering all of the history that she has with Artie: _I'm just…worried that he's, like, lonely or something. Wait, isn't he dating Tina?_

And the glee club's sectionals are coming up and Melissa has been preparing by filming videos of her singing so that she can get comfortable singing for an audience. Although she's not even sure she wants to go to sectionals what with all of the drama in the glee club, and she kind of wishes that she was back in California.

And that's what you missed on _Glee_!

* * *

The next few days were absolute hell. Kurt kept true to his word and ignored me. Just like I expected, Mercedes stuck to his side, though if we ever saw each other in the halls or glee club, she would shoot me an apologetic look. I figured she probably wanted us to bury the hatchet, but I didn't know how to go about fixing things. It had never been my strong point.

My personal life wasn't the only thing going through the ringer, sadly. We managed to get a full page photo for the yearbook, but nearly got disqualified from sectionals. We had been given a stack of brand new mattresses as payment for the commercial, and though we didn't _technically_ accept them, Mr. Schue was also going through some difficult things in his home life and slept on a mattress at school. That meant we really _had_ accepted payment for the commercial, which in turn technically cost us our status as amateurs. Since it was an amateur competition, that meant instant disqualification. After some negotiating, we were able to compete again at sectionals, with a price: since he was the one who used the mattress, Mr. Schue wasn't able to come with us.

I was desperate to connect with Artie, but with everything going on in my personal life, I couldn't muster the strength to even say hi in Spanish class. I kept to myself, something I had hoped was in my past now that I had the glee club. I realized more than ever just how much I had messed up with Kurt.

It was lunch. I was dreading being alone, so I was going to the library to use the computers to work on my English essay. It wasn't due until the next week, but at least if I looked busy, nobody would think I was alone.

Maybe it was time to bite the bullet and reach out to Artie. He was the only other person at school who would voluntarily talk to me, and I hated the loneliness. I started walking towards the library, calling Artie as I did. Busy signal. I groaned, but a familiar voice in front of me stopped me in my tracks.

"Dudes, this is serious," Artie said into his phone. "If she finds out, she's going to tell Finn. She's a total trout mouth."

I didn't need to ask what he was talking about. The latest buzz in glee club (which actually managed to distract me slightly from the fight Kurt and I were having) was that Finn actually wasn't the father of Quinn's baby: Puck was. And by that point, everyone knew except for two crucial people: Finn and Rachel. We knew the glee club would implode if they heard the news, and there couldn't be a worse possible time.

Artie looked up and saw me then. He knew he didn't need to explain what was happening on the phone. I held my phone up at him to show that I was trying to call. He nodded, then turned his attention to the call. "Melissa's here. I'm adding her." As he pressed the buttons on his phone, he mouthed the words 'party line' to me.

"Guys, Rachel knows something's up," I said once I was added. "She cornered me by my locker earlier and I don't think she's worried about me taking a solo from her."

"Kurt wants in," Tina said.

Kurt spoke next. "I say we lock Rachel up until after sectionals. I volunteer my basement."

"We can't," Mercedes said. "We need her to sing."

"Damn her talent!"

Santana and Brittany were added to the call next. "We just heard," Santana said. "Who told?"

"We assumed it was you," Artie said.

"Why would I do that?"

"To get back at Puck," Kurt said. "Aren't you guys dating?"

"Sex is not dating," Santana said, as though that was obvious.

"If it were, Santana and I would be dating," Brittany said.

Artie and I shared a look as the line went silent. Did she just say…?

"Look, I don't want to rock the boat," Santana said at long last, breaking the awkward silence. "Since Quinn got pregnant, I'm top dog around here."

"Hold up, Rachel's walking by," Mercedes said. I could hear her murmuring in the background before she continued, "She's gone. Look, I know I screwed up by telling all you guys about Quinn and Puck, and I feel really terrible about it, but we cannot let Rachel figure this out. If she tells Finn, he's going to flip."

"And then, we'll really have no chance at sectionals," Kurt added.

"What we need is a distraction," Santana said.

"Hold that thought," I said, my eyes darting up at the person approaching. "Quinn's coming."

Artie and I tried our best to look inconspicuous, though Quinn's eyes fell on us almost immediately. "Are you two on the phone while standing right next to each other?" she asked us.

"No," we said at the same time, then immediately shared a glance with one another. _Real smooth._

"Checking my voicemail," Artie said.

"I'm just on the phone with Mercedes and…" I said, then immediately realized I said too much.

"And?" Quinn asked.

"No one. No one at all."

She nodded, though it was rather clear that she didn't believe me. She opened her mouth to say something, then closed it and walked away.

"Way to go, Melissa," Kurt said once Artie and I got back on the phone.

I had been getting annoyed with how Kurt was treating me, but that moment felt somewhat justified, and I honestly was just grateful he was speaking to me. "Look, I'm just as worried as all of you are," I said. "If Rachel finds out, we can kiss winning at sectionals goodbye."

"I'm telling you," Santana said, clearly irritated. "We need something that's going to take everyone's attention off of the baby drama."

"Like what?" Tina said.

"I could go topless," Brittany offered.

"That might work temporarily, but we would need something big to get people to forget about this," Artie said.

"News travels fast," Kurt said. "We just have to wait for something to happen."

"Oh, I'll make sure it does," Santana said. "There's always someone hiding something." With that, Santana hung up. I could hear each line _click_ing off, so I hung up as well.

Next to me, Artie shut his phone. He looked up at me as I sighed. "You alright?" he asked.

"Yeah," I said in a weak voice, forcing myself to smile. It was no use; he was looking at me with his full attention, seeing right through my facade. Through another sigh, my face falling, I said, "No. I messed up big time and Kurt's really mad at me. That was the first time he's talked to me in almost a week. And with him ignoring me, Mercedes is giving me the silent treatment, too."

"What'd you do?"

"We were arguing and I just said some things I didn't really mean, some things that _were_ really mean. I just feel really alone right now."

I took a deep breath. God, I was _not _about to cry.

"He'll forgive you eventually," Artie said in a gentle, nurturing tone. "And in the meantime, you have me." My stomach gave a small flutter, but it was gone just as quickly as it came when he said, "Why don't you have lunch with me and Tina today?"

Ordinarily, I'd jump at the chance, but I was not immune to the looks that Tina gave Artie—the same looks I gave him, looks that said quite clearly she still had romantic interest in him.

"Thanks for the offer, but, uh, I have a paper to write for my English class. I think I'm just gonna go to the library for lunch today."

"Maybe next time," he said. "See you at the glee club meeting." He gave me a small smile and waved goodbye before he took off in the direction of the cafeteria. I watched after him in longing and silent resignation before making my way towards the library.

My essay was on the novel _To Kill a Mockingbird_ by Harper Lee. I had read it not only for my English class at McKinley, but also at my old school, so I was familiar with the material. Still, I couldn't get my mind to concentrate. I had the file pulled up on a library computer using my flash drive, but didn't get much farther than adding my name to the top of the page.

"_There_ you are!"

A sudden voice nearly made me jump out of my skin. I looked up and saw, to my relief, that it was Mercedes standing before me. She took up a seat at my side and said, "I've been looking all over for you. I'm starting to get the feeling that you're ignoring me."

"_Me?_ Ignoring _you?_ I'm surprised you're talking to me," I said truthfully. "I figured Kurt was still mad at me."

"He is, but you're my friend, too. And the truth is, with everything going on right now, I really miss you."

I turned to face her completely. She certainly _seemed _genuine, though I was admittedly hurt that she had let a petty argument that she wasn't even involved in come between our friendship.

I picked at the chipped nail polish on my thumb. I knew it was time to swallow my pride. "I miss you, too," I said. "And Kurt. But he's not going to forgive me anytime soon."

"He'll get over it eventually. He's one of the nicest people we know. He's just a little nervous about the whole Rachel thing."

We fell silent. I looked back up at the blinking cursor on the computer screen, searching for something to say. Mercedes broke the silence before I could. "So, I need to know: how's it going with Artie?"

I chuckled, though it wasn't funny. "It's not. I've been so upset that I haven't been talking to _him_, either."

"Not a great way to get his attention."

"Maybe I should just give up."

"Don't say that. Call me crazy, but I think you actually have a shot of making it work with him. But tell me: how did this all start? Your feelings for him?"

I held my hands up in confusion. "I could really only describe it as…an energy exchange? We were working on our ballad together and we just…connected. It felt like I had known him for years. And he's always been so nice to me, so I just…" I trailed off, lost in my own thoughts. "It's not important. We've got bigger problems right now. What with sectionals and Rachel…Kurt…"

With that, tears started welling up in my eyes. _Goddammit. _I was trying so hard not to cry, but I couldn't take it anymore. Kurt's silent treatment was finally getting to me. I felt so overwhelmed and didn't know how much more I could take of it.

Mercedes didn't say anything for a moment. When she did, she simply said, "Your makeup is a mess." She stood up and motioned for me to follow. "Come on. Let's go get you cleaned up. Got to look presentable for your man," she finished with a giggle.

I stood and grabbed my bag off the floor, following her out of the library. "It's not just the whole thing with Kurt and Artie," I said. "To tell you the truth, I'm really nervous about sectionals. I get really bad stage fright. The last time I performed for an audience back in California, I really embarrassed myself. I'm sure someone has a video of it somewhere."

We passed Santana, Quinn, and Brittany as we went, the latter of whom was mumbling something about keeping a bird in her locker. By then, I knew better than to question anything she said and kept walking.

"Mel, you're amazing. You don't have anything to worry about, other than being seen with this eyeliner on your face."

Mercedes helped me touch up my makeup in the bathroom. I couldn't deny how nice it felt to have her by my side again. I knew then that I had to finally apologize to Kurt. I didn't know how much more I could take. When the bell rang, I looked slightly more presentable and felt much better, so we said our goodbyes, saying we'd see each other in glee club after school.

* * *

After my math class was let out, I went to my locker to drop off my stuff. I was in the middle of dialing in my combination when I saw him, a sour expression on his face. "Kurt!" I called.

He looked up, his expression faltering even more when he saw me. "Melissa, you're just the person I wanted to see," he said, his voice even higher pitched than normal.

"You, too," I said as I walked in the direction of the choir room. Kurt followed close by my side. "Look, Kurt, I was really out of line when I talked to you the other day. I shouldn't have said half of the things I said to you."

"Oh, it's fine. Really. I've forgotten most of what you said."

"No, it's not fine. You're one of my only friends and I really regret what I said. I'm really sorry."

"Great. Why don't we go catch up at the Lima Bean?"

I blinked in surprise. "What? Now? Kurt, we can't, we have glee club."

"Why don't we just skip it today?"

"Ordinarily I'd say yes, but we have sectionals this weekend and we _just _decided on a set list. We can't just _not_ go to rehearsal."

"I-it's fine. We already know all the choreography anyway. I just really think we should skip it."

Something strange was happening, and I could tell. "Kurt, you're acting really weird. What's going on?"

We had reached the choir room. I was about to walk in, but Kurt grabbed me by the wrist. "Melissa, you _really _don't want to go in there."

"What are you talking about?"

I ignored Kurt and broke free from his grasp as I walked into the choir room. Most of the kids were huddled around the piano, where someone had set up a laptop. The majority of the kids were laughing at whatever was playing on it. When I realized what it was, I stopped in horror.

"But who is Melissa Widman, anyway?" came the voice of Jacob Ben Israel from the laptop. "Melissa Widman is a freak."

From over Matt's shoulder, I could just make out the screen. There was a grainy video of me performing with my previous glee club. I recognized the performance at once and instantly felt rooted to the spot. There I was, singing Whitesnake's _Here I Go Again_, my first foray into performing. I had been given a few lines in a performance at an event at our school's pep rally for homecoming…but the event had ended in disaster.

_And here I go again on my own  
Going down the only road I've ever known  
Like a drifter, I was born to walk alone  
And I've made up my mind  
I ain't wasting…_

I didn't get any farther in the performance, though, because at that moment, my all too familiar and very unwelcome stage fright overtook me. I covered my mouth with my hand and immediately started vomiting in front of the entire school.

And now everyone in New Directions had seen this.

My knees were shaking, my eyes were burning as though I was about to cry. _This can't be happening._

But the humiliation didn't end there. Jacob came back on the screen and said, "Sources tell me that this isn't the only dirty little secret that Melissa Widman is hiding. The following clip was sent to me by an anonymous student here at McKinley High."

The screen switched to the static that came over a television set before switching again, to another video of me. There I was in my bedroom in the house in Lima, shouting at Kurt on the phone…revealing yet another secret of mine.

"You've been acting weird and manipulating me ever since you found out that I'm in love with Artie," my voice said from the laptop. My breath was immediately knocked out of my lungs.

"I beg your pardon?" came Kurt's voice.

"I said, _I'm in love with Artie! _Okay? I don't care. I like him, a lot."

Everyone in the room was laughing or otherwise glued in interest to the laptop—everyone, that was, except for one person. Artie sat beside the piano with a horrorstruck expression on his face.

How had that video gotten out? I had it saved to my flash drive…

My flash drive. I realized in horror that I must have left it plugged into the computer when I was working on my English paper. Someone had to have gotten ahold of it and given it to Jacob so he could post the video online.

"How many views does it have now?" Brittany asked.

"Two thousand," Santana said, laughing.

I could feel Kurt by my side—how long had he been standing there, anyway? "I told you not to come in," he said quietly.

That was the first moment that people noticed my presence. Santana looked up at me and laughed, as did Brittany. Quinn was doing her best to hide a chuckle, and Puck had a dopey grin on his face.

Artie wheeled himself forward, saying, "Melissa—"

I couldn't bear to look at him. I clasped a hand over my mouth to keep from crying out, then ran from the room, the sounds of my teammates laughing following me. As I ran down the hall, I could feel everyone's eyes on me as other people started to point and laugh too. I ran nearly head on into Finn, who seemed rather irritated, Rachel coming in hot behind him. I didn't have the heart to even say sorry as tears poured out of my eyes.

There, on my locker, was a piece of paper that someone had taped up: a crude drawing of me projectile vomiting with the word _FREAK _written on the top in huge letters. I didn't even have the heart to rip it off my locker, instead turning to try to get out of the school.

Unfortunately, there were some people standing before me preventing me from doing that. I didn't know most of their names, other than one who Artie had said was Karofsky, but it didn't matter. I did know exactly what was in their hands.

When the slushies hit me, I immediately gasped. What little breath I had in my lungs suddenly escaped me. It was so cold that I could barely see straight. The goop was dripping into my mouth, getting into my eyes and running down my face.

"Thought we'd give you a little treat," Karofsky said. "They say sugar is supposed to help keep you from puking."

"Yeah, and we figured you weren't getting any sugar from that loser in glee club," one of his buddies said as the two broke into a laugh.

Everyone in the hallway was laughing at me. I could feel more tears forming in my eyes and searched for an escape. I ducked past Karofsky and his friend into the first solace I could find—the girl's bathroom. I leaned against the counter and openly cried until the tears stopped coming, then looked up at myself in the mirror. Simply put, I was a mess. My face was red and splotchy, not just from the cold shock of the slushies, and my eyes were bloodshot. My hair, which I had tied back in a ponytail, was falling into my face. The green dye was running down my skin and already had stained my white shirt. I really did look like a freak.

It was over. I couldn't stay here anymore. I could never go back into that glee club, and I definitely would never be able to face Artie after what had happened. His look of horror must have been from the fact that I was so much of a loser and had a crush on him. I would have been mortified, too. God, why was I such a freak?

_I'm starting to fashion an idea in my head  
Where I would impress you  
Where every single word I said  
Would come out insightful or brave  
Or smooth or charming_

_And you'd want to call me  
And I would be there every time you need me  
I'd be there every time  
But for now I'll look so longingly  
Waiting for you to want me  
For you to need me  
For you to notice me…_

* * *

_**Artie**_

Artie had been horrified when he first saw the video.

It had been Tina talking to Mercedes that had first tipped him off. He had overheard the two girls talking about it on their way to glee club that day.

"Have you seen that video?" Tina asked.

"The one of Mel?" Mercedes asked. "Who hasn't by now?"

"God, that must be so humiliating," Tina said, "to feel so exposed like that."

"I feel bad for her," Mercedes continued. "I thought nothing could distract us from babygate, but I think we might have found a contender. Just don't say anything to her. I don't think she's seen that video yet."

What video?

Artie stopped in the otherwise secluded hallway as the two girls walked away, looking around to see if anyone was watching before getting his cell phone out. He needn't wait long to find out what the girls had been talking about; someone had texted him a link to a YouTube video posted by Jacob Ben Israel. He opened it, surprised to see the title: MELISSA WIDMAN IS A FREAK.

"What up, blogosphere!" he said. "This is JBI coming at you with the freshest gossip here at WMHS! Most of you probably have no idea who Melissa Widman is," he said as a picture of her popped up on the screen, "but you're about to find out."

The words MELISSA WIDMAN IS A FREAK filled the screen. It cut back to Jacob, pictures of Melissa appearing on the screen next to him as he spoke. "Melissa Widman is the newest transfer student, coming to us from Fresno, California. If her wardrobe and allegiance to the McKinley High glee club wasn't enough to convince you to stay away from her, you might just be asking yourself who is Melissa Widman, anyway? Melissa Widman is a freak."

Artie watched in abject horror as a grainy video of Melissa projectile vomiting played before him. There was no doubting that that was her; it looked just like her, even if the person on the screen before him was dressed in a more understated way than the girl he knew.

The video didn't end there, though. It suddenly switched to more intimate footage shot in what appeared to be Melissa's bedroom. She was shouting at someone who didn't seem to be present in the video, and the words that she said made Artie feel paralyzed to the spot—more than he usually did.

"You've been acting weird and manipulating me ever since you found out that I'm in love with Artie."

He couldn't have possibly heard her correctly, he thought, not even paying attention to what the other person had said. But when Melissa opened her mouth again, it confirmed what he had thought she had said:

"I said, _I'm in love with Artie! _Okay? I love him, Kurt, and he's made it very clear to me that he likes me the way I am, so nothing you say is going to change me," before the video cut out.

"Oh, my God," Artie whispered as his eyes fell on the view count: over eighteen hundred people had clicked on it. What with the way that Mercedes and Tina had been talking factored in with the ridiculously high amount of traffic the video had gotten, he could only assume that most people at the school had seen it…but if Mercedes was to be believed, one rather important person hadn't.

Melissa.

"Oh, no," he whispered, shoving his phone back in his pocket and quickly taking off in the direction of the choir room.

This was one of the times that he wished more than anything that he could run. He had to make sure he got there before she could find out. Maybe he could soften the blow.

As soon as he came into the room, though, he realized this mission would be fruitless. Melissa wasn't there, but most other people already were. Santana grinned when he came in, saying, "Oh, so glad you're here, Abrams. Wouldn't want you to miss this."

"Santana, don't—" he said, but it was too late. Santana had set her laptop on top of the piano and there was already a crowd of people in the glee club watching. As the video played again, he sat rooted to the spot, trying to figure out what to do. Melissa was going to be humiliated.

He wasn't sure when she got there, but soon enough, there she was as nearly everyone in the room laughed at her expense. Even Mercedes couldn't help but grin (when had she gotten there?), though her expression made it seem almost like she was sorry that this was happening—or perhaps guilty that she was getting amusement out of it.

"Melissa—" he said, coming towards her as he tried to find something to say to her.

It was no good. She pressed a hand over her mouth and ran from the room. Kurt turned to try to stop her as well, but she was already gone. Someone mumbled something about her going to go throw up again, and the room dissolved into fits of giggles once more.

Artie turned to the little group gathered around the piano. "That was really mean," he said, not even sure who he was addressing.

"Yeah, well, most of us just pretend to like her," Santana said.

"That's not true," Artie said.

He was about to say that he liked Melissa, and maybe even lecture the rest of the group about how they should too, but someone else's presence in the room made them immediately stop talking. Finn had arrived, Rachel hot on his heels, and was walking briskly towards Puck. Without a word, he walked right up to Puck and took him to the ground, punching him repeatedly in the face. Everyone was so shocked at what had happened that no one tried to intervene or said a word. Even Artie forgot for a moment about what had just happened with Melissa, completely unsure as to what was going on.

Mr. Schue eventually arrived, followed by Ms. Pillsbury, the guidance counselor. Their teacher ran to break up the scene, pulling Finn off of Puck. Matt and Mike had to hold Finn back as he continued to shout at Puck. He wasn't sure if he was just imagining it, but Artie thought he saw blood on Finn's hands.

It became evident very quickly that Finn knew the truth about the paternity of Quinn's baby, and Artie wasn't entirely sure if he blamed him when Finn announced, "Screw this. I'm done with you. I'm done with…I'm done with all of you!" And just like Melissa had, Finn stormed out of the choir room, kicking a chair as he went, followed by Quinn and shortly thereafter, Rachel. Eventually, after Mr. Schue ensured that he was okay, Puck followed suit.

It seemed a little tone deaf when Mr. Schue suggested that they started working on practicing for the competition.

"What competition?" Kurt asked.

"We still have to be ready for sectionals if we want to win…" Mr. Schue said.

"Can't go to sectionals without twelve members."

Mr. Schue looked up at Kurt in confusion. "What?"

"Look around. We don't _have _twelve members anymore."

"Look, Finn might be gone, but the other guys, they'll come back—"

"Oh, sure, Rachel will. Quinn and Puck, probably. But I doubt Melissa will be joining us again anytime soon. And without her and Finn, there's only eleven of us."

Artie looked down at the ground in apparent discomfort as Mr. Schue looked around the room doing a headcount, noticing Melissa's absence for the first time. "Where…?" he asked, but Kurt filled in the blanks.

"She left. Right before Finn walked out. And I don't think she's in a big rush to come back."

Mr. Schue looked just as lost as the rest of the room felt. Nobody said a word; even Santana looked uncomfortable. Artie wondered whether she would have been so okay showing that video to everyone had she known what was about to go down with Finn.

Artie got out his phone. They _had _to get Melissa to come back. Sure, they'd have to come up with something when it came to Finn's part in _Don't Stop Believing_, but they couldn't perform with the both of them missing, and certainly not without enough members. He found her number and called her. The phone rang and rang, but she never answered, finally going to voicemail.

* * *

_**Melissa**_

As soon as I got home from school, I ran straight upstairs to my room, laid down on the bed, and cried into my pillow.

This had to be the most humiliating thing that had ever happened to me. I couldn't get the sounds of all the kids at school laughing out of my head, nor could I forget the look on Artie's face when he saw me in glee club. There was no way he was ever going to like me, not after what had just happened.

Against my better judgment, I pulled my cell phone out. My voicemail box was overflowing with messages, some of them from people I didn't even know, calling just to make fun of me. I had gotten all sorts of texts, though mostly from the people in glee asking me to come back (Brittany misspelled 'sectionals' in hers). Kurt had written me what was essentially an essay saying that they needed me to compete, though I doubted that strongly. I didn't have any solos. Mercedes was going to handle _And I Am Telling You I'm Not Going_, Mr. Schue hadn't wanted to deviate from how we had practiced _Proud Mary_, and naturally Finn and Rachel could tackle _Don't Stop Believing_. As much as she had tried to convince me otherwise just a week before, Rachel didn't need me to provide any backup singing to her.

My cell phone rang on the bed beside me. I glanced at the caller ID and immediately felt like vomiting yet again when I saw the name illuminated on the screen. _Artie Abrams._

I let it go to voicemail. It was funny how just days before I would have done anything to have him call me on the phone, but in that moment, there was no one I wanted to talk to less than him. He didn't leave a message.

I needed to get out of Ohio. There was no way I could show my face again in that school. I could be homeschooled. Soon enough I would forget about my feelings for Artie, but I would never be able to forget how humiliated I had felt.

I wasn't going back. Not to McKinley, and definitely not to glee club.

* * *

_**Artie**_

Artie had originally been looking forward to sectionals, but when his alarm went off on Saturday morning, he was anything but eager. Melissa still wasn't answering his calls, and she had been absent from Spanish class as well. As far as he knew, no one had heard anything from Finn, either.

"You heard anything from Mel?" Mercedes asked.

Artie had been sipping some coffee from the Lima Bean, but froze when he heard Mercedes and Kurt talking behind him in the choir room. His dad had offered to get him a cup of coffee on their way to school that day, saying he looked tired. He accepted the offer, if only so he didn't have to admit how he really felt. He couldn't keep thoughts of Finn and Melissa out of his mind. He tried to look busy so as not to seem as though he was eavesdropping, though he was desperately clinging to every word that the pair shared.

"No. She's missed two days of school," Kurt said. "I stopped by her house this morning and offered her a ride to school, but her dad said she hasn't gotten out of bed since she got home the other day. She won't even listen to any Avril Lavigne music. I can't help but feel partially responsible."

"This is awful," Mercedes said, sighing. "How could we have lost Finn _and _Melissa right before competition?"

"The embarrassment was too much for them. I wouldn't be surprised if they've both skipped town by now."

Artie bit his lip and exhaled heavily. The team was at school getting ready to go to sectionals, but he had never really felt less gleeful in his entire life. People in the club definitely couldn't stop staring at him, something he tried to pretend he didn't notice. Though Melissa rarely spoke in glee club, her absence was palpable. He started to cross the room to throw away his cup, even though it was still half full. He couldn't even pretend that he wanted it anymore.

"Oh, hey, Artie," Kurt said, bringing Artie back down to earth.

"H-hi," he said, trying to act nonchalant. He tried to fake a smile, but he knew it looked pained, and he couldn't hold it for longer than a second anyway.

"You haven't heard from Melissa, have you?" Mercedes asked, his heart stopping as she did. "I figured if anyone could make her come back to glee, it'd be you."

"Oh, uh…no, she hasn't said anything to me."

"I hope you haven't been pulled through the ringer too much for this," Kurt said before he and Mercedes walked away.

Truthfully, he hadn't—not really. Sure, some people at school had made comments about Melissa being his girlfriend, making kissy noises at him, but mostly, he just got weird looks going down the hallway. He was used to that, though. He didn't quite have the sort of reputation that Finn or Puck had. But he had heard some of the things people were saying about Melissa, and they were downright cruel.

There had been a person in their Spanish class who asked Mr. Schue how to say the word "loser" in Spanish. Though confused, their teacher had given the translation as _perdedor_, _perdedora_ for a woman. The next day, there was a sign taped to Melissa's chair with the word written on it in huge letters (the letter a had been added on clearly as an afterthought). Artie ripped it off her chair and crumpled it up in a fit of rage before she came in, though she never did.

Mercedes was right. If anyone could bring her back to the glee club, it would be him. He pulled out his phone and started to look through the contacts. He hesitated on her name.

_Melissa Widman._

Just as he was about to press the call button, Mr. Schue announced that it was time to head to the bus. Ordinarily, Artie would have been thrilled at the fact that they had managed to include him by getting a handicapped bus, but admittedly, his thoughts were elsewhere. He couldn't help but think of what Melissa had told him about a month earlier, how she was partially the catalyst for the bake sale to help raise money for the bus. She should have been there.

He took one last look at his cell phone before he shoved it back in his pocket and started wheeling himself to the front of the school with everyone else. Unless Melissa was standing out there waiting for them, it was too late. Lo and behold, she was nowhere to be seen.

It was rather wistfully that they loaded him up on the bus after everyone else. They had managed to find a twelfth member to fill in for the two they had lost, though none of them were admittedly very excited about who that twelfth person was. Jacob Ben Israel was going with them to the competition, and Puck was to take Finn's solo in _Don't Stop Believing_. Artie wanted to punch Jacob in his stupid face for what he had done to Melissa. He had some pretty low blows on his blog before, but he had never gone to such extremes to humiliate someone. Artie couldn't help but wonder if he would ever see her again.

The energy on the bus had been rather somber, until a voice finally broke the silence. "Do it again," Brittany said amidst giggles.

"Okay, okay." Santana closed her eyes before making retching noises, pretending to be vomiting. Brittany laughed, and even Quinn cracked a grin, albeit somberly. It was as though she was glad the focus was shifted off of her for a change.

Artie had had enough. Without turning to look at the cheerleader, he snapped, "Would you _stop?!_"

Everyone on the bus went silent, turning to look at him. He hadn't expected this outburst, either, but he was infuriated.

"Do you realize how humiliated Melissa is? She's _gone_, all because of you guys and I'm tired of it. She's our _friend_. At the very least our teammate. You can't keep treating her like this."

No one spoke for a long time. Artie shook his head, wondering why he even bothered. Melissa wasn't about to just hop on the bus. The odds that they'd ever see her again didn't look good.

It was Jacob Ben Israel who broke the silence. "Can I get a quote from you for my blog?" he asked Artie.

Artie turned to Jacob and said four words he had been dying to say to the boy for what felt like years: "Go to hell, Jacob."

Jacob said nothing, though that may have been because Ms. Pillsbury got on the bus at that moment. Mr. Schue couldn't come with them to the competition, and the guidance counselor had stepped in to take his place as their chaperone. The doors shut behind her as she got on and addressed the team, offering them words of wisdom that fell flat. None of them felt very gleeful after losing three important members of their team: Mr. Schue, Finn, and Melissa.

Artie took one look out the window as the bus started to roll away from the school. It was too late. There were no signs of his teammates, which meant that they weren't going to be joining them for the competition.

* * *

**_Melissa_**

The texts stopped coming in eventually. It seemed like everyone had finally given up on trying to get me to come back to the glee club. Even Mercedes had stopped trying to reach me. Kurt had come by that morning and offered to drive me to school. When my dad came to get me, though, I told him to tell Kurt that I was sick. I knew he wouldn't believe me, though it wasn't really far off from the truth. I truly had felt sick ever since I left school the other day, though I knew it had little to do with a virus or something I had ate. I figured by that afternoon I would know how the competition went, even if not from them. Surely, Jacob Ben Israel would write about it on his blog, just like he had posted a preliminary story about me with the revolting promise that "details are forthcoming". As if it wasn't enough that he had already posted that stupid video.

A knock on my door brought me out of my thoughts. "Melissa, can I come in?" my dad called.

I said nothing. I wasn't quite sure how much longer I wanted to avoid my parents.

He opened the door despite my lack of an answer, waving his hand at me as though in a peace offering. I made a face at him before pulling my knees to my chest. He took this as an invitation to sit down on the edge of my bed, though I stared down at my bed sheets to avoid looking at him. My eyes fell on a loose string.

"You, uh, you've missed two days of school," he said, as though that weren't already apparent to me.

"I can't go back there, Dad. Too humiliating."

"Okay." He scratched the back of his neck, searching for something to say. Try as he might, he had never been very good at dad talks. "Your mom and I are getting worried about you. I thought maybe Green Day broke up, but I'm starting to think something bigger happened. It's not a band that's bothering you, isn't it?"

"It's not a band," I said, shaking my head.

He sighed. "You know, I know what today is. It's your choir thing."

"I'm not going."

"Don't you think your team needs you?"

"They don't need me. All I do is stand in the background."

"Didn't Dave Grohl start out as a backup singer before Foo Fighters?"

"Yeah, a backup singer for _Nirvana_. He kind of already had it made. I'm just a loser."

"You know what they say about a team?" I looked up to meet my dad's gaze, trying to ignore the look (and lecture) he was giving me. "That they're only as strong as their weakest player. Now, I'm not saying that's you, but even if it was, they can't do it without you."

"That's great, Dad, but I'm not really in a big rush to see any of them after what happened the other day."

"What happened?"

I sighed, figuring it was only a matter of time before he found out anyway. "People don't like me at school. Not even the kids in glee. I just don't fit in. Even Kurt isn't super happy with me right now. We had a fight. And the other day, someone posted this embarrassing video of me online and now everyone just laughs at me when they see me. You should see some of the things kids are writing about me on MySpace."

"Is it really that bad that you can't go to school?"

"It's a video of what happened at my old school. You know, the one where I _expressed myself_ in the middle of _Here I Go Again_? And after that, there's a video of a very private conversation I had with Kurt, the one that made him stop talking to me."

Dad suddenly seemed to understand what I was talking about. "Alright. What's his name?"

"Who?"

"No, don't play dumb. This is about a guy, isn't it?"

I sighed again. "His name's Artie."

"Okay. This Artie guy…he popular?"

"Not exactly. He's in the glee club with me…you know, before I quit. I mean, I guess the people in glee like him. It's just…he saw it, Dad. The video. And he looked at me like I was a freak."

"Alright, listen, kiddo." God, no, he was really not going to give up until he had given me a dad speech. The last thing I wanted to hear. "I know it's been a while since I was a teenage boy, but let me tell you something about them. There's a lot of pressure on them to be the ones to get the girl. When a girl flips the script and tells _them _that she's into them, even if they don't feel the same way, guys really like that and admire you for it. So you can sit here and be sad if you want, or you can go to that competition and see this guy and show him that you're not ashamed. Up to you."

I didn't say anything, hugging my knees to my chest as I thought about what he said. When I made no attempt to reply, he said, "I mean, I'm sure it'd mean a lot to Kurt and your other friend, uh…Miranda?"

"Mercedes."

"Yeah, her. And Artie, too."

He put a hand on my back and nodded at me before he got up, saying, "Just think about it, would you?" before he left the room. He shut the door and left me alone with my thoughts again.

Maybe he had a point. Even if the glee club didn't like me being there, it still would be difficult to try to work around my absence in _Proud Mary_, what with its intricate choreography. Plus, the Jane Addams girls and the kids from Haverbrook did have one thing that we didn't have: numbers. The more bodies we had, the better our stage presence.

I thought about what he said about my friends. Artie and Mercedes did have a pretty big part in our set list, and if anything, I wanted to be there to support them—Kurt, too, since I knew how much this competition meant to him.

That settled it. I got up to go find my dad. To my great surprise, as I opened the door and called, "Dad," I found him standing on the other side with a big grin on his face, his car keys dangling in front of me.

"I'll be waiting in the car," he said.

* * *

I had never seen my dad drive so fast in my entire life. I held onto the handle in the front seat that my mom oh so eloquently referred to as the "oh, shit" handle as he rounded corners at breakneck speed. I knew that this was justified. We had to hurry if I wanted to make it onto the bus and get to sectionals.

He barely stopped when we pulled up in front of the school. I practically threw my seat belt off and jumped out of the car. He rolled the window down and yelled, "Break a leg! Call me when you're done!" before driving out of sight.

I ran in the direction of the bus loading area, but stopped short. There was nothing there. A couple of cars were in the parking lot, but there was no sign of a bus.

"No," I mumbled under my breath. It was only one minute after when we were supposed to leave. How could I have missed it?

I ran into the school in the direction of the choir room. Maybe the bus was late, and everyone was still waiting for it to arrive. Maybe, just maybe, I still had a chance, I thought as I flew down the hallways. I had to get there before—

_Smack!_

I was instantly knocked flat off my feet as I collided with Finn for the second time in just a matter of days. Almost instantly, he reached out to me. "Melissa!" he said as he offered me his hand. "I'm so sorry. Are you okay?"

"Yeah," I said, dusting myself off as I stood up. "I was just trying to find everyone before it was too late…"

"The bus just left," Finn said. I felt my heart break inside my chest. "I just saw them leave." There was a moment of silence. As was fairly normal for him, he was looking at me with a confused expression on his face. I knew exactly how he was feeling. Why was he here if the bus had left?

"What are you doing here?" I asked.

"I quit glee club."

"So did I," I said somberly.

We stood in awkward silence for a moment, searching for something to say. A million thoughts were racing through my head. We were too late. We had to be. The competition started at eleven. Neither of us had a ride. But then, how were the rest of the kids going to sectionals if both Finn and I had left? And if Finn left, did that mean he knew about Puck and Quinn?

"I was just clearing out my football locker," he said at long last. "You can come with me if you want."

I truthfully had very little desire to go into the boys' locker room, but I had that awful feeling like I was going to cry again. Maybe missing the bus had been a blessing in disguise. At first, I had wanted to go to sectionals, truly. But being back at school brought back all of the horrible feelings of the past few days. I felt like some jock or bully would pop out any moment and throw a slushie in my face. I felt like if I even looked at Artie, I would start crying and not be able to stop. I couldn't do it.

I would be damned if I shed another tear, so I nodded and followed Finn down the hall. I had to take three steps to match every one of his, he was so tall.

When we first got to the locker room, he started asking me some questions to get to know me. At first I was surprised, but then it started to make sense. I had never spent this kind of one on one time with Finn. He had barely spoken to me before. When I first joined glee club, it was when he had decided to swear his allegiance to the football team. When he came back, no one really explained who I was, and I was so quiet that I wasn't eager to give an introduction. I told him about my dad's transfer and how I had wanted to join glee club because I had done it back home. We fell silent after that. I sat on the bench helping him sort through his belongings (the boy kept an inordinate amount of trash in his locker).

"Hey, Finn. Melissa."

We looked up in surprise and saw Mr. Schue approaching us, fiddling with his car keys. For a moment, I panicked. Was I technically allowed to be in here?

If I wasn't, he didn't mention it. "I just called your mom, Finn. She'd told me you'd be here. I figured you wouldn't be too far away, either, Melissa."

"Yeah, you know, football season just ended," Finn said, "so Melissa's just helping me clean out my things."

"That sounds like something that could have waited till Monday."

Finn turned back to his locker, then paused before turning back to our teacher. "You heard anything?"

He nodded. "Yeah. It's pretty bad." I looked up at Finn. I could see that he was not taking this news well.

"Really?" I asked. How? Sure, they had lost Finn, but we had practiced _Proud Mary_ and _Don't Stop Believing_ so many times. Unless they hadn't been able to come up with twelve members, how could things possibly be going wrong?

Still, Mr. Schue nodded. "I can't be there."

"And we can? I can't even be in the same room as her without crying like a girl," Finn said, confirming my suspicions that he knew about Quinn and Puck. "I can't look at him without wanting to punch his face off." He tossed a stick of deodorant into his backpack with more force than he had been using the entire time we had been clearing out his belongings.

"I don't have any more pep talks, Finn. You know I know how you feel. But all I know is that, between you and me, I don't think that they can win without you. Or without you, Melissa."

"They don't need me," I said.

"And that's not fair!" Finn said. "Why does it always have to come down to me? Why do I always have to be the bigger man?"

Mr. Schue tossed his keys up in the air and caught them again. "Because sometimes being special…sucks." Mr. Schue sat down on the bench next to me, trying to meet my eyes. I turned away, looking at my feet. "Now, I don't pretend to know what's bothering you, Melissa," he said. "But what I do know is that I have watched you come alive in that choir room."

I looked up at him, trying to ignore the burning feeling in my eyes. I shook my head. "We can pretend that this is a family all we want, Mr. Schue," I said, blinking back tears. "But you know that the kids in that choir room just tolerate me." The three of us fell silent.

Finn sighed. "I just want everything to be like…like it never happened, you know?"

"Me, too," I said.

"Well, Finn…Melissa…" Mr. Schue said, setting his car keys down on the bench next to me. "You can't always get what you want." I looked back at the floor again. He did have a point. "Listen." Mr. Schue stood up, turning towards the door. "I'll be in the choir room."

Finn and I both looked at the keys on the bench next to me. "Oh, Mr. Schue, you forgot your keys," Finn said, picking them up to take them to our teacher.

"No, I didn't," Mr. Schue said confidently as he kept walking. Finn looked down at the keys in his hand, then we both looked at each other in understanding.

* * *

_**Artie**_

They were doing their numbers.

Every single song that they had prepared, even down to the choreography, was exactly the same. The Jane Addams girls started off with a rendition of _And I Am Telling You I'm Not Going_, which admittedly was a popular song, as Rachel pointed out to a dumbfounded Mercedes. Okay, no big deal, Artie thought, Rachel surely had another ballad up her sleeve that she could pull out.

But when they continued with _Proud Mary_—in wheelchairs—he knew that there was no way it was a mere coincidence.

When they got backstage, Artie was so frustrated that he immediately started ramming himself into a wall. Mr. Schue had been disqualified from joining them at the competition, leaving them to have to fend for themselves. They had lost Finn, their male lead. Melissa was gone, and whether she cared to admit it or not, she was one hell of a dancer, even with her stage fright. And then the competition had to go and steal their set list. There was no doubt about it: they were screwed. Which meant no more glee club.

What was more, the news had just come out that Melissa was in love with him just before she got laughed out of school. He had no idea what to think or do. He had never exactly been super popular with the ladies before, so God knew he didn't know how to handle a girl confessing her feelings for him. Hell, when Tina had asked him out on a date just a few weeks before, he was certain that it was a joke, despite how well they knew each other by then. But the situation with Melissa had an extra layer of complexity, and he didn't have the faintest idea of what he was going to do when (or perhaps more correctly, if) he saw her again.

Each time he rammed himself into the wall, he kept thinking about how it was his fault. It was like Kurt said: he somehow felt partially responsible for what had happened. He knew it was silly; after all, he couldn't help the way that Melissa felt, nor could he have predicted what had transpired just days before. Mercedes finally forced him away from his corner when it was time for Haverbrook to perform. Though he couldn't feel his legs, he was certain that they were bruised.

Just as he thought things couldn't get any worse, Haverbrook performed _Don't Stop Believing_, the planned closing number for their set list. Brittany (bless her simple little heart) was actually enjoying the performance, waving to the deaf choir before Artie swatted her hand away.

"Meet me in the green room in five minutes!" Rachel shouted over the noise before she took off. Artie knew he had to trust her. If anyone had a plan, it would be her.

* * *

**_Melissa_**

Someone had leaked our set list for sectionals.

Finn and I knew we had to come up with something. We had reached a silent agreement that we were going to try our hardest to get there in time for the competition. I didn't want to see Artie, and he didn't want to see Quinn or Puck, but we realized Mr. Schue and my dad were both right. They couldn't do it without us, because a team was only as strong as their weakest members.

Finn had an idea for a new number for us based on our conversation with Mr. Schue. We both knew, but didn't admit aloud, that we were a long shot. Trying to pull together a song at the last minute like this was going to be difficult at best. Still, it would be better than not performing at all. After we got the sheet music squared away, we climbed into Mr. Schue's car and started the drive. I wasn't sure if Finn was talking to me so much on the drive there because he genuinely wanted to get to know me or if he wanted some sort of distraction from what had happened with Quinn, but either way, I welcomed the change. It was the first time I truly felt like I belonged in the club, the first time it ever felt like anyone really appreciated my presence.

I told him about what happened just days before. He didn't say a word about his own problems, instead just acting as a soundboard for me. What's more, he actually seemed sympathetic to what I was going through. He didn't make any rude comments or laugh at any of my misfortunes. Instead, he empathized, telling me that he couldn't even begin to imagine how I felt. I told him that I had wanted to go to sectionals at the last minute, for which he commended me. He said it must have taken a lot of guts for me to make that decision in spite of how embarrassed I felt.

When we finally got there, we tracked down a worker to ask where our green room was. By some stroke of luck, our team hadn't performed yet. We might have time to pull some strings and make it work. As we walked down the hall towards the room, I could hear the team discussing what to do and where they would go from there.

"We need another song we can all sing together," Puck said.

Finn and I walked into the room together. All eyes were instantly on us. Most of the people were staring at us as though in disbelief of what they were seeing. I couldn't quite tell if they were shocked that I came back, that Finn had, or that we both did. I gave a small, shy smile, pointedly avoiding eye contact with everyone.

"We have one," Finn said. "I found the sheet music online. Melissa used the Cheerios' copier to make copies, and then I trashed the thing." The group got to work distributing the sheet music as Finn continued to talk. "Mike, Matt, Brittany, Santana, you're our best dancers. Figure something out and we'll follow your lead."

"It's gonna be choppy," Mike said.

"Good. We're best when we're loose." Mike and Brittany shared a smile, then got up to start working on our dance moves. Santana and Matt followed closely behind. "Look, all we have going for us is that we believe in ourselves and what we're singing about. If we can show the judges that, we might have a shot at this thing."

Everyone in the room started to look over the sheet music. Rachel smiled a huge smile and said, "It's good to have you back, Finn." I was about to go sit down and look over the music when all of a sudden she spoke again. "And you, too, Melissa."

I looked up at her in surprise. She was smiling at me, the happiness apparent in her eyes. She really meant what she had said. I couldn't help but smile back.

"Cool if we take our spots back?" Finn asked Jacob Ben Israel, who was rising from the group huddled in the back of the room.

"Quite," he said. "I was just here because I was hoping to get into Rachel's pants. And also…" He dug around in his pocket, producing a tape recorder, walking right up to me and sticking it in my face. "Care to give a few words for the readers of my blog?"

I searched for something to say, but the surprises kept coming: Puck broke away from the group next, grabbing the tape recorder out of Jacob's hand and throwing it in the trash. "Yeah, she _does_ care," he said. "You break that story, and I'll break your face."

Puck turned to me and grinned. He held out his fist to me and I tapped it with my own. Though I couldn't condone him actually hurting Jacob, I couldn't help but grin back. I didn't know what had happened, but something had changed in the group, and it felt like maybe they were finally starting to include me.

I grabbed my own copy of the sheet music, going to join the rest of the team looking it over. When I arrived in the huddle, Artie spoke up first: "Melissa, can we…"

"We'll talk later," I said, still avoiding meeting his eyes. "_After _we win sectionals."

From the corner of my eye, I saw him smile at me before we got to work learning the lyrics to the song.

* * *

It was now or never.

We were huddled backstage, ready to go on. Rachel had promised us that she had something prepared for a ballad, and said that all we had to do was wait for her onstage. She was definitely my first choice for someone who would be able to pull something like this off, so all I could really do was trust her.

As the moment drew nearer, the gravity of the situation started to weigh on me. We were about to go up in front of hundreds of people, and I would be expected to sing and dance in front of them with lyrics I barely knew and choreography I had just learned. The thought of that stupid video came into my head again. I suddenly felt dizzy, my stomach in knots.

"Melissa, are you okay?" Artie asked, wheeling up to me. I tried to ignore the obvious concern in his voice.

I had one hand over my stomach, the other pressed to my forehead. "I can't do this. I think I'm going to be sick," I said in a weak voice.

"We're all nervous. It's not like we've rehearsed any of these songs…"

I took the hand off of my head. "The last time I performed in front of an audience this big, I puked my guts out. And I think I'm about to do it again."

"Hey, you shouldn't psych yourself out," he said in a quiet, gentle voice.

"I don't know how to psych myself _in!_"

"Listen," he said, taking my free hand in his, forcing me to meet his gaze. "You can do this. I've heard you sing and you're phenomenal. And you're a really good dancer. You don't need to worry. And if you feel yourself getting nervous or…or sick, just look at me. I'm going to be right there with you, and we'll get through this together. _You'll_ get through this. You're going to be great. I know you will."

"What if I mess up?"

"You're not going to. Trust me. _You can do this. _I just want you to remember one thing."

"What's that?"

There was a pause, then Artie reached for my other hand. I took it off my stomach and gave it to him, my stomach giving another lurch—but not as though I was going to be sick. It was a much different feeling.

After what felt like a lifetime, Artie said, "I love you."

I couldn't bring myself to say anything back. I felt a rush of emotions coming over me and had no idea what to do or say.

Artie squeezed my hands. "Now you get out there with the rest of the team, and you help us win this competition. We can't do it without you."

I smiled at him, an involuntary reaction to what he said, as the lights in the audience started to flicker. Everyone in the audience went quiet.

"And now, our final team: McKinley High's New Directions!"

The music began. I took a deep breath.

_You can do this, _a voice in my head said, but it didn't belong to me. I looked back at Artie, who was waiting in the wings, as I followed the rest of the team to the back of the room. _You can do this,_ his voice kept echoing in my head. As Rachel's song came to a close, we filed on stage. Artie rolled out behind Rachel. When our eyes met, he looked at me with a smile and a nod.

_You can do this._

* * *

I could barely believe it when the New Directions were announced as the winners. We had ran back to the bus full of adrenaline and giddiness, Artie carrying the trophy as we went. Kurt and Mercedes couldn't stop hugging me. I knew that the silly argument Kurt and I had really was a thing of the past.

When we got to the bus, I watched as they put Artie on the lift to load him onto the bus. I then turned to Finn. "Hey, Finn, uh, is it cool if I ride the bus back?" I asked. "I don't want to leave you hanging, but—"

Finn's eyes were on Artie. He gave me a knowing smile and said, "Yeah. Don't worry about me."

I had never enjoyed a bus ride nearly as much as I enjoyed that one. I sat next to Mercedes with Kurt and Artie sitting in front of us. Most people didn't seem to care much about the video anymore, nor the drama with Finn, Quinn, and Puck. Ms. Pillsbury sat in the front with the trophy, beaming with pride at all of us.

When we were close to Lima, Artie asked, "So, why _did _you come back?"

I looked up at Kurt and Mercedes then back to him before answering. "It's where my heart was," I said.

When we got back to the school, everyone headed to the choir room to put the trophy away and wait for rides home. Artie and I we were the last two in the room. Ms. Pillsbury offered to wait with us, but we told her that we would be fine. I sat and waited for my dad to get there, my head in a bit of a whirl. We had _won_ against all the odds against us. If that didn't prove our status, nothing did.

As people started trickling out, Artie came up to me and said, "Alright. You said we would talk after we won." We both turned to look at the trophy.

"So I did," I said.

"There's something I want you to hear." I looked up curiously as he went over to the band equipment and picked up the guitar.

"I really don't know—" I started, but he cut me off.

"Please?"

I met his eyes. He already had "her" in his hands, waiting for my approval. "Okay."

I made myself comfortable in my chair. He started strumming the guitar. When he started to sing, I suddenly recognized the song. It was the one that he had been playing when Rachel had called our emergency glee club meeting the week before, right before he tried to teach me to play _Complicated_.

_While everybody else is getting out of bed  
I'm usually getting in it_  
_I'm not in it to win it_  
_And there's a thousand ways you can skin it_

_My feet have been on the floor flat like an idol singer  
Remember winger, I digress_  
_I confess you are the best thing in my life_

He made direct eye contact with me when he sang that line. A funny yet all too familiar feeling went through my stomach.

_But I'm afraid when I hear stories about a husband and wife_  
_There's no happy ending, no Henry Lee_  
_But you are the greatest thing about me  
_

And with that line, he looked at me again and smiled. I couldn't help but grin back. God, he really did have a beautiful voice.

_Hold our cell phones up in the air_  
_And just be glad that we made it here alive_  
_On a spinning ball in the middle of space_  
_I love you from your toes to your face_

He looked back down at the guitar and sang with his eyes squeezed shut, though his face was filled with emotion.

_If it's love and we decide that it's forever  
No one else could do it better  
If it's love and we're two birds of a feather  
Then the rest is just whatever  
And if I'm addicted to loving you  
And you're addicted to my love too  
We can be them two birds of a feather that flock together  
Love, love, got to have something to keep us together  
Love, love, that's enough for me_

_You can move in, I won't ask where you've been  
Cause everybody has a past  
When we're older, we'll do it all over again  
When everybody else is getting out of bed  
I'm usually getting in it  
I'm not in it to win it_

In perhaps the most smooth motion I had ever seen, he strummed the guitar, then pushed his wheelchair backwards so that he was directly next to me, then looked straight into my eyes for the next line:

_I'm in it for you_

I couldn't help it; I was crying again. Not wanting him to see me cry, my eyes fell down on where his hands rested on the neck of the guitar. It still amazed me just how talented a musician he was.

_If it's love and we're two birds of a feather  
Then the rest is just whatever  
Then the rest is just whatever  
_

_And if I'm addicted to loving you  
And you're addicted to my love too  
We can be them two birds of a feather that flock together  
Love, love, got to have something to keep us together  
Love, love, got to have something to keep us together  
Love, love, that's enough for me_

He turned his wheelchair so he could face me, setting the guitar down on the steps of the choir room behind us as he did. "So I'm sure you know by now that pretty much everyone has seen that video of you."

"I do. I've never been so humiliated in my life."

"Why?"

I looked at him in confusion just to see him making the same confused expression back at me. "_Why?_" I repeated. "That was the most embarrassing thing that has ever happened to me."

"What was so embarrassing about it?"

"Are you kidding? I thought I left that humiliation behind when I moved here, but now everyone has seen me make a fool of myself. And then there was the embarrassing thing that I said to Kurt about you—"

"So you're embarrassed of me."

That sentence broke my heart. I shook my head. "N-no, of course not."

"Then what was so embarrassing about it?"

I opened my mouth, but found I didn't have an explanation. Nothing really was that embarrassing about it—at least, not that part.

"It wasn't," I said at last. "Not really. Although of all the ways for people to find out, me screaming at Kurt wasn't my first choice. It was just the way that people reacted that embarrassed me. I got two slushies to the face after that video was posted and everyone started calling me a freak or a loser."

"So you're really in love with me?"

"You have no idea." I had no idea why, but tears started building in my eyes yet again. "I don't really understand it, but when I'm with you, I feel so happy. I can't explain it, but when I met you, it was like there was this…voice in my head telling me that you were the person I've been looking for. Ever since we did that ballad together, I've been crazy about you. That's why Kurt was dressing me up like a Barbie doll and why I tried my hand at reinventing myself, too. I sort of thought if I presented myself differently, you'd like me."

"That's not something you have to worry about."

With that, he reached out for me. He put his hand on the back of my head and pulled me close. Our lips met for the first time. At first I was surprised, but then I reached out and put one hand on his cheek. It wasn't my first kiss, but I had never been kissed like _this _before. He opened his mouth slightly and pressed his lips into mine. I wasn't sure if it was on purpose, but he took a breath in, literally taking my breath away as he did.

We finally broke apart. I pulled my hand off of Artie's face, though his lingered on the back of my head for a few moments longer. It trailed down my neck before finally falling to his lap. We stared at one another wordlessly, me trying to figure out what had just happened. He broke the silence at last by saying quietly, "I have wanted to do that for so long."

The tears spilled down my cheeks as I shook my head. "I don't understand…you said you loved me."

"Well, to be fair, you said it first."

"But why? Why now?"

"I've wanted to say it to you for a while. But I was confused about how I felt about Tina, and I thought maybe you didn't feel the same. But I know now, even if I didn't hear it from you first, that you do. You can't deny that we had an instant connection."

"Not really instant, I mean, I didn't even notice you at first."

"But I noticed you, even before your style change."

"But why me?"

"I could ask you the same thing."

"I guess it's _because _you noticed me. You saw me when I was invisible. I know I'm not pretty, but—"

Artie sounded genuinely heartbroken when he said, "Don't sell yourself short. You've always been the prettiest girl in this choir room to me." I looked up at him in disbelief, but he looked sincere. "So, about this thing between us, I have to ask…do you still love me?"

"Yes. Even if it means taking a slushie to the face every day."

"I'll be there to help you clean yourself off."

"I couldn't thank you enough for doing that for me when I got my first slushie facial."

"Hey, I cleaned you off, you admitted you're in love with me, consider us even." I chuckled. "There's something I want you to have."

He turned around in his wheelchair, reaching into his backpack. He ruffled around for a minute, then pulled out an envelope. There was a single word written on the outside—my name. _Melissa._ He handed it to me. I stared at it, wondering what could possibly be inside.

"I wrote it the other night," he said. "But don't open that right away. I want you to save that for a time when you're feeling really lost and need some words of encouragement." He held his hand out to me. I set the envelope in my lap and took his hand, threading my fingers through his. He gave it a squeeze before rubbing the back of my hand with his thumb. "I have to say that this could be the start of a beautiful relationship."

Acting far braver than I felt, I leaned forward and kissed him. He kissed me back, and when I sat back in my chair again we stared at one another wordlessly.

I finally broke the silence by saying, "There is no 'could be' about it."

* * *

**AN: And there you have it. This chapter ended up being even longer than I had thought when I told you it'd be long. As always, the playlist on my profile is updated and has the links to the music featured in this chapter. I'm curious to know what your thoughts were on this. There is still more to come as this story is going to cover the rest of the first season of _Glee._ I hope you all enjoyed it and don't forget to favorite, follow, and review!**


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